Boosh and Prejudice
by Red Chucks
Summary: What if the Bennets did not have five daughters? What if one of those daughters had in fact been born a boy, and that boy's name was Vince? Basically, Vince and Howard have invaded the world of Pride and Prejudice and have run away with it before I could catch them.
1. Chapter 1

**So, last night, after reading Pride and Prejudice again (one of my favourite novels) I had a really weird Jane Austen / Mighty Boosh crossover dream and thought it might be fun to write it down. And then it started getting long. And then the characters decided to do their own thing entirely. **

**So, sorry this might be a long one, and sickeningly sweet to boot. Most of the female characters are played by either Sue Denim or Dee Plume and there are a few cameos by other characters too. Hope you like it. Reviews are a happier sight than Mr Darcy striding across the moors.**

**Rating: K I think, pretty tame.**

**Disclaimer: If I could actually write like Jane Austen, or Noel Fielding and Julian Barrat for that matter, I would be a very different person indeed. None of this is mine, except the silly and cringeworthy bits.**

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.

Well... generally this is true. But, from time to time, the gentlemen in question have ideas of their own and when they do, remarkable things happen.

In a charming little house that was surrounded by elms lived one such young man, the second child of a Mr and Mrs Bennet. His name was Vince, a most unique young man with fabulous hair, and on this particular day he was sat, with his four sisters around him, on the stairs outside his father's study, listening intently to Mrs Bennet's excited ramblings.

"But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you know they visit no new comers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him, if you do not."

"You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr Bingley will be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying which ever of the children he chooses; I will even throw in a good word for Vince, if you like."

At those words the two youngest sisters, Lydia and Kitty, burst into a fit of giggles and even Jane, the eldest, smiled. Mary, the middle and most serious of the sisters simply scowled at not being able to hear the rest of their parents' conversation and Vince shrugged at her, his own grin pulling at his lips. There was no helping their sisters and for the most part, he was happy to let them go about their vapid lives and get on with his own.

Most men might have considered being the only boy among four sisters to be something of a trial but growing up Vince had rarely resented his position in life. Having four sisters and an indulgent mother meant that Vince had learnt to draw a pattern and sew, to paint a landscape and play music and to dance more elegantly than most young men in the country. If he had been a girl he would have been considered accomplished but, as a boy he was considered as something of an oddity. All the women of the town adored him for his ready smile, quick wit and well tailored clothes, but most of the men regarded him with suspicion. It was probably the hair, Vince mused to himself. Most men in the area just didn't have hair as brilliant as his. They either wore it short or tied it back in a ludicrous ribbon. Vince wore his long, almost to his shoulders and never made any attempt to hide it or tidy it away. As his mother had told him, 'When God blesses you with a gift like that you don't hide it away in shame. That would be sacrilege surely'.

It did mean that outside of his family Vince had few friends, Charlotte Lucas being the one exception. They had been friends from childhood and he knew that people were starting to wonder when Vince would propose. The idea made Vince grimace. He loved Charlotte dearly but she was like a fifth sister to him. The thought of marrying her, of doing what they would have to do to make children together... it all made Vince feel a little ill.

Couldn't a man just be friends with a woman without it having to end in marriage? He knew that his feelings weren't normal and that eventually he would have to marry to preserve the family name or else face public humiliation and probably be disowned by his parents. They accepted that he had rather eccentric tastes in clothes and used the silk dress fabrics to make his coats and waistcoats, but they still probably expected him to end up with a woman. Even if his father did make jokes about giving Vince away to a rich gentleman.

"Shush!" Jane whispered loudly, jolting Vince out of his melancholy musings. She pointed at the closed study door and the five siblings leant forward as they tried to listen in on the rest of the conversation.

"You simply must visit them, Mr Bennet. Think of my nerves. Think of your daughters! And I hear he has a sister, who I am sure will swoon for Vince the moment she sees him, as all the girls do. Mr Bennet, are you even listening? Upon my word, you do not even care! Oh, but you make me tired of the very thought of Mr Bingley. If we are not to know him, how shall I ever hold my head high in church? We are to be shunned by all good company and he shan't even know us to look at come the next ball. Oh, I am sick of Mr Bingley!" cried Mrs Bennet.

"I am sorry to hear that; but why did you not tell me so before?" their father replied slowly. "If I had known this morning I certainly would not have called on him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance now."

The shriek of astonishment that came through the closed door made the five young Bennets jump and Lydia and Kitty burst into another round of noisy giggles. Mary stood and stomped off toward the library, muttering about the uselessness of listening at doors in a family as shallow as this one and Jane leant in to rest her head on Vince's shoulder.

"When is the next ball to be held, Vince?" she asked in her soft voice.

"Next Friday, Jane," he replied, sighing. "Which means we shall only have to put up with Mother's panic about Mr Bingley for nine days but also means that we only have nine days to create for ourselves entirely new outfits."

Jane chuckled quietly. She was not as fussed as her brother over being the best dressed at every social occasion but, Vince noted, when you were as pretty as Jane you didn't have to worry about what you wore, everyone would be looking at you with adoration anyway. If only he'd been born a girl. Then he could be like his older sister, and receive attention from the gentlemen and officers. Instead of the officers simply assuming that he was just the odd, ugly sister who insisted on wearing trousers. Maybe he should wear a dress to the ball, see if that made any difference?


	2. Chapter 2

**A short chapter but a fun one to write. Hope you like it. **

**I present to you: The Ball.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the works of Jane Austen or Julian Barrat and Noel Fielding. I merely dream about them at night and wake up very confused.**

Vince's mother had put her foot down at the idea of her only son turning up to the ball in a dress on the basis that none of his sisters would be offered a single dance if he were there to distract them so. She had offered him enough silk for a new dress coat but said she needed him to be on his best behaviour for the sake of all present. She'd also mentioned that he might want to be on his best behaviour on account of Miss Bingley who would be gracing the ball with her presence and, it was rumored, was very refined, attractive and single. Vince doubted he'd find the lady that attractive, not unless she was very remarkable in deed.

The day of the ball arrived far too quickly and, as Vince stared about the large room, he began to wish that he lived somewhere other than a small town. Somewhere he could just be Vince Bennet, rather than an honorary 'Bennet girl'. While he enjoyed dressing up and was fairly certain that his tastes ran in the same direction as his sisters' (except maybe Mary's) he did wish that sometimes he could simply be Vince, without all the family baggage and town gossip.

He knew he looked good tonight and certainly wasn't opposed to people gossiping about his attire. His new dress coat was possibly his best yet, the delicate pale blue silk catching the light and highlighting the matching blue of his eyes. The faint floral pattern was barely noticeable, Vince thought, but that didn't stop the other men shaking their heads at him in scorn and refusing to acknowledge him. They all thought him rather too eccentric but then, they thought the same about his father, for different reasons, and Vince had been brought up by his father to believe that the opinions of those who were not willing to engage with something new and different were not opinions worth noting.

He also knew that the other single young men would be vying for the attentions of Miss Bingley and saw Vince as a rival. Vince just hoped that when the dancing began the band would play some decent music for a change.

When the Bingley party entered they certainly left no one in any doubt that they were people of money and breeding. While Mr Bingley charmed the room with his unaffected manners, quiet manner and pleasant features, Miss Bingley left most of the women in awe at her elegance and most of the men hiding behind the curtains. She was certainly an intimidatingly beautiful creature, if a little haughty in Vince's opinion. It was however, Mr Bingley's friend, one Mr Howard Darcy, who drew the most attention with his tall frame, brooding features, well groomed moustache and noble mien; and the report which was in general circulation within five minutes of his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year and a large estate added to the attraction.

Vince tried not to be impressed. He'd never been that enamored of moustaches, he found it impossible to grow one himself, and to him Mr Howard Darcy looked rather too reserved. The general opinion of those present soon soured when he refused to speak to those around him and the large estate he owned was discovered to be in Yorkshire.

"Gracious me," Vince overheard one of the older women telling his mother.

"Yorkshire. Leeds, to boot! No wonder he appears so dour. You know what Northerners are like."

Mr Bingley was soon the life of the party, dancing every dance, speaking to everyone and even complimenting Vince on his coat.

"It is quite what they're wearing in London, you know," he told him to the surprise of those present. "Who is your tailor, good fellow?"

Vince had laughed and thanked him and changed the subject, complimenting the man's boots, before it was revealed that he sewed his clothing himself.

Mr Darcy had chosen not to participate in the conversation despite Vince trying several times to include him and he was starting to wonder whether the man could speak at all when Mr Bingley implored him to to join them for the next dance.

"Come, Howard," he said, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself like this. Loosen up. You would feel much better if you danced."

"I certainly shall not, sir. You know that I detest it. At such an assembly as this, it would be unsupportable. Besides," he said, glancing too long in Vince's direction. "I would not want to be associated with the other 'gentlemen?' at this gathering. It might give the impression that I wish to be acquainted with them."

Vince felt his jaw drop but recovered quickly. He was not about to let this Howard Darcy see that he had felt insulted by his callous words. Bingley seemed similarly surprised.

"Come, come, Howard. Don't do it for the men. Do it for the ladies. By my word I never saw so many pretty young ladies in all my life. Are not four of the number your sisters, Vince?"

Vince nodded as Bingley turned to him. He could feel a blush rising up his cheeks. He didn't want to dance anymore, not if the sight of him was so intolerable to Mr Darcy.

"Excuse me," he whispered before making a quick bow and heading for the exit. No one noticed him go, or so he thought. His mother was too busy watching the whole assembly admiring Jane and his father was busy with a bottle of brandy. His sisters were all enjoying themselves, as was everyone else. The only person who did notice his absence, it so transpired, was one Mr Howard Darcy. He stood in the corner, still refusing to dance, and watched as the one man who should have been dancing slipped quietly from the ball. Howard had been watching the younger man for most of the evening. He was a skilled and elegant dancer and when he laughed and smiled he seemed to radiate sunshine. Howard thought him quite the most enchanting creature he'd ever seen. Which was why he'd had to be rude to the boy, obviously. Such thoughts as he'd been having were not acceptable, were sinful even, and Mr Darcy had his pride.

Even so, as he watched the slender young man exit unnoticed, he could not help but feel for what he had done. But what could he do? It was unlikely that such a boy would have such leanings; Howard had long ago learnt that he was quite alone in his perversion, and even if he did, he would never requite someone such as him. It was useless. He should simply resign himself to the fate his aunt had set upon him as a child and the inevitable life of loneliness.

He shifted himself further back into the shadows, hoping to go unnoticed in the noisy hall. He hated parties.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter the third. It wrote itself. My hands were involved but not my brain.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, even the Elm trees aren't mine. **

**Enjoy!**

The next morning at the breakfast table all talk was of the ball and Vince tried to join in, to be as cheerful as he usually was, but he found it a struggle, especially when the conversation turned to Mr Darcy.

"He was awfully rude, don't you agree, Mother?" Lydia exclaimed and their mother agreed around her mouthful of toast and marmalade.

"He certainly wasn't at all what one would look for in a husband," Kitty piped up.

"Except for his ten thousand pounds," Lydia giggled. "But you're right," she continued with much self-importance. "He wouldn't do for a husband for any of us," and then she grinned slyly. "We shall have to give him Vince instead!"

Kitty and Lydia's snorting giggles were too much at this time of the morning and Vince stood up abruptly. The girls giggled all the more as he stormed away from the breakfast table and though Jane called after him and Mr Bennet shushed his daughters, Vince didn't stop walking until he was well away from the house and out among the elm trees.

He did not quite understand why he was as infuriated as he was by the girls' remark. The man was just a snob from the city and it was unlikely Vince would ever have cause to see him again.

He was nothing to Vince, surely. Nothing but a tall Northerner in a moustache. Indeed, just a tall, handsome, mysterious, compelling, intelligent Northerner in a kissable moustache.

"Oh dear," Vince whispered as he slumped against a tree. This was not a pleasing turn of events.

Things were rather different at the Bingley breakfast table. Between Christopher Bingley and Howard Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in spite of a great opposition of character. In fact, Bingley mused, the only person who seemed more in opposition to Howard in temperament as well as appearance was that young man they had met at the ball only the previous night. Bingley nodded to himself. The Bennet lad, Vince, that was his name. He had been stylish and charming and looking at he and Howard standing by side had been like watching magnets not sure whether they should repel or attract. It had been a shame that Howard had felt the need to insult the lad, Bingley pondered, and it had been the strangest thing. When Howard had insulted him and Vince had made his terse goodbye, the two men had seemed so very much alike. It was quite the riddle, the way the two had interacted and Bingley secretly hoped that there might be an opportunity to spend more time with the young man, if only to continue to witness the strange dance going on between him and his dear friend Darcy.

Howard chose that moment to clear this throat pointedly and Bingley realised he had been sitting at the table, staring at the wall with his cup of tea half way to his lips.

"Are you feeling quite well, Christopher?" he asked from behind his own cup of tea.

Bingley flustered for a moment. It wouldn't do to tell his friend that he'd been thinking that there was a strange sort of chemistry between him and the Bennet boy.

"I was just thinking back to the ball," he stammered, still attempting to think of a suitable cover story. "I was thinking of the Bennet... girl."

Howard nodded and Bingley relaxed a little.

"She was the finest young lady in the room, there is no doubt of that," Howard said tersely.

"She certainly was," Bingley agreed, thinking back to the fine young woman. "Such a slender neck, did you notice, and delicate features and hands. She danced so marvelously."

He was cut short by the entrance of his sister who, when she was informed of their conversation, proclaimed that Jane Bennet was indeed a sweet girl, and one whom she should not object to know more of.

"Excellent," Bingley agreed. I would indeed like to see more of her, he thought, and to put her brother in the path of Howard again too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Because the last chapter was a short one, and this chapter is a short one, and since this chapter already exists... I thought I'd post it now.**

**Disclaimer: I own very little of anything. But I knitted the socks I'm wearing and surely that counts for something.**

Not far from the Bennet home, there sat the estate of the Lucas family with which the Bennets were well acquainted and, as there had been a gathering and much new gossip to be turned over, Mrs Bennet set off after breakfast to visit her friend, Lady Lucas, taking Vince with her to help her on the rougher paths. Vince wasn't bothered by being asked to accompany his mother, aside from her never ceasing complaints about the state of the road and her boots and poor feet and poorer nerves. The walk was pleasant, he was away from Lydia and Kitty and their teasing, and when they reached the Lucas estate he would be free to take a turn around the garden with Charlotte.

This they did before turning back to the house and taking a few moments rest on the small wooden bench below the drawing room window. It was a favourite spot for the two as they had long ago learnt that from this seat they could very easily overhear any conversation taking place in the drawing room and by this way, overhear all of their mothers' gossip and silliness.

"Your Charlotte began the evening well," Mrs Bennet said in a civil tone. "She was Mr Bingley's first choice, I believe."

"Yes, but he seemed to like his second better."

"Oh! you mean Jane, I suppose - because he danced with her twice. To be sure that did seem as if he admired her - indeed I rather believe he did. I heard something about it... but I hardly know what - something about Mr Robinson."

Vince and Charlotte giggled.

"Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr Robinson; did I not mention it to you? Mr Robinson's asking him how he liked our Meryton assemblies, and whether he did not think there were a great many pretty women in the room, and which he thought the prettiest? And his answering immediately to the last question, 'Oh! the eldest Miss Bennet beyond a doubt, there cannot be two opinions on that point'."

"Upon my word! Well, that was very decided indeed... that does seem as if... but, however, it may come to nothing, you know."

"Your poor son did not fare so well, I hear," Lady Lucas said, regaining some ground. "And so finely turned out, as always."

"I beg your pardon? He was complimented on the cut of his coat by Mr Bingley himself, was he not?"

"Oh, indeed. But I did overhear that Mr Darcy quite insulted him."

Vince stood up, not wanting to hear any more of the silly conversation and made his way back into the garden. Charlotte followed and, when they were a safe distance from the house, took his hand in hers reassuringly.

"I beg you not to think on it, Vince," said Charlotte. "Mr Darcy is not so well worth listening to as his friend, is he? And I believe he insulted the men in general at the assembly, not you alone."

"He was quite disagreeable," Vince said shortly, trying to calm his temper. "And his insult was meant for me alone, there was no mistake."

"Aye, but Miss Bingley told me that he's never in the habit of speaking much unless among his intimate acquaintance, and with them he is remarkably agreeable."

"I don't doubt it, Charlotte but all the same," Vince said, stopping and turning to face her. "And still, it is one thing to be the most attractive man at the assembly, he did not need to remind us mere peasants of his superiority."

Charlotte stared, her mouth hanging open and Vince tried to think back on what he had said that would have so shocked her.

"What?"

"You found him attractive?"

"Didn't you?" Vince shuffled his feet and turned his attention to a butterfly fluttering between the rose bushes.

"I found him passable, Vince, as I am sure did most others."

"No, surely you could see it. His height, his shoulders, the soft wave of his hair, the way he held himself. What? What are you staring at?"

"Vince, while he was certainly striking I still believe that most women would have said he was no match for Mr Bingley or yourself," Charlotte replied measuredly. "But what made me stare, Vince is the way you yourself were describing him."

"How did I describe him?" Vince asked, feeling his voice crack ever so slightly.

"You described him as one who was quite enamored of him, dear friend. As a young woman might talk about a man who had caught her eye."

"No, I-" Vince tried to pull away but Charlotte held firm.

"It's alright, Vince. I shan't tell your secrets but you can tell me. Do you love him, do you think?"

"What?" Vince felt dizzy at the suddenness of the question. "Certainly not, Charlotte. Handsome he may be but he was rude and hurtful. I couldn't love someone who thought it was appropriate to treat another person thus."

Charlotte nodded and Vince felt himself begin to relax, but his canny friend was not quite finished with him yet.

"So you do not love Mr Darcy. But Vince," she took his face in her hands so that he could not help but look at her. "When you do fall in love... it will be a _man_ who captures you heart, will it not?"

Vince's voice was barely a whisper when he replied but Charlotte heard it and the reassuring smile she gave him in return was all that kept him from giving in to the dizziness in his head and the sick feeling in his stomach upon saying that one word.

"Yes."


	5. Chapter 5

**Another day, another chapter, with yet another to follow soon as they seem to write themselves in twos. **

**The Disclaimer is, as always, that I own only the bits of this that are neither Austen or Boosh and have no intention to make money out of them, they are merely playthings for my own amusement. **

**(And reviews make me giddier than Lydia in a giggling fit.)**

**Enjoy.**

**.**

Christopher Bingley stared at himself in the mirror, sighed and tried once again to settle his collar into some semblance of fashion. He was usually adept at such things but the promise of seeing Miss Jane Bennet again was causing his heart to race and his hands to shake. She really was the most delightful young woman and, even if her mother was intolerable and her younger sisters rather vapid (according to his own sister's judgement), at least her brother seemed a well turned out young man. If only Howard didn't disappear every time they came by. It was rather annoying, Christopher decided, since he had made up his mind that the two needed to at least air their differences, that he could not seem to get them in to the same room.

With a huff he glared at his reflection a final time before leaving the mirror. He and his sister would be entertaining the Bennets and the Lucases and he could have used Howard's support. Even though he said very little his presence was reassuring, especially in the face of so many women. Oh well, at least Jane would be there, and he could enquire of Vince again, where he had his clothes made. He desperately wanted a waistcoat in the style the man had been sporting. Vince's tailor must be some sort of genius but so far Vince had refused to tell him who it was.

The walk to the manor house which was currently home to the Bingleys was an enjoyable one and as the roads were better in this direction all parties were spared Mrs Bennet's complaints on the subject. She instead spent the walk boasting to Lady Lucas of Mr Bingley's growing fondness for Jane. Glancing over at his sister Vince wondered how she managed to always look so composed, even when he knew that she was embarrassed at their mother's words and excited at the prospect of seeing Bingley. He said as much to Charlotte as they followed the road and came in sight of the house.

"It may perhaps be pleasant," replied Charlotte, "to be able to remain so seemingly unaffected; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affections with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark."

"What?" Charlotte sighed.

"In nine cases out of ten, a woman would do better to show more affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on."

"But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow."

"Oh, Vince. We who know her can see her feelings but Mr Bingley doesn't know her like we do. He might not be able to tell how strong her feelings for him have grown."

"So you think she should be more forward?"

"If she wishes him to know her feelings, yes," Charlotte pressed.

Vince frowned. Courting was complicated, even when it was obvious to him that Jane and Bingley were perfect for one another there was still so much protocol and innuendo to wade through.

"I just want her to be happy," Vince mumbled and looked up in time to see Charlotte smile.

"Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance, Vince," she said, and the smile she gave was a sad one.

"I expect my chance is a very slim one indeed."

He said the words to himself and, though he knew Charlotte had heard them, he could not bring himself to look toward her. He didn't want to be pitied, not for simply being himself. Even if his situation seemed rather hopeless that did not mean that he was pitiful. He was Vince Bennet and, if nothing else, he could dress to impress just about anyone.

He strode forward with a new determination only to stop so suddenly that Charlotte bumped against his back. His heart was racing faster than a hound and his palms were beginning to sweat. There by the doors of the manor, dismounting from his horse, was Mr Darcy, looking even more dashing than he remembered.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six, because I couldn't restrain it, naughty chapter. Well, not a naughty chapter, but the boys finally work up the nerve to talk to each other.**

**Enjoy! (And see the disclaimers of previous chapters if you have any worries about me thinking I own these ideas and characters.)**

**.**

During that afternoon tea and at every social encounter thereafter, Vince noticed how Mr Darcy seemed to be paying rather close attention to him. While he still refused Vince's attempts at engaging him in conversation he began to attend to his conversations with others. Howard for his part, spent most of his time trying to figure out what he could say that Vince Bennet could possibly be interested in. He had thought, at first, to simply try and become interested in one of the many young ladies who were always in attendance at Bingley's lunches, teas, evenings and recitals. He had been forced rather quickly to realise that no matter how engaging Miss Lucas was, or how lively the younger Miss Bennets were, they were no match for the sunshine that was Vince.

It was at Sir William Lucas's, where a large party were assembled that he finally found the nerve to speak to Vince again, hoping that this time he could be civil at the least, and engaging and interesting at best.

"What Does Mr Darcy mean by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?" Vince whispered to Charlotte.

"That is a question only Mr Darcy can answer."

"But he will not talk to me, I've tried."

"Then you must try again, Vince, before his satirical eye and dark disposition make you grow afraid of him."

Knowing a challenge when he heard one, Vince moved himself subtly closer to Mr Darcy until he could appropriately begin a conversation with him. He hoped the man would speak to him this time. It was becoming rather awkward, talking to someone only to have them stare at you before excusing themselves and walking away. People were starting to gossip, he was aware, saying that Vince Bennet was trying to insinuate himself into the company of his betters, or worse, that he got some enjoyment out of being insulted and rebuffed at every social engagement by the intolerable Mr Darcy. Vince did not really care, he had been talked about for too long to bother overly much with the people of the town. His only fear was that they might realise his true intentions, that he was in fact quite enamored of Mr Darcy. He hoped it did not come to that. He had thought to simply show Mr Darcy that he had been wrong to dismiss him out of hand but as the other man seemed to take an interest, so Vince's interest grew, until he wanted with no little desperation to be at least friends with this mysterious man. If only he could engage him in conversation.

"Did you not think, Mr Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I petitioned Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?"

There was moment, just a moment, but in the minds of both Howard and Vince it seemed to stretch well beyond it's allowed measure, until finally Howard spoke.

"Indeed I did, Mr Bennet. And with great energy. But it is a subject which always makes a..." he panicked, trying to think of a word to describe the young man before him. "A... a young person energetic."

"Not much younger than yourself, surely, sir," Vince smiled up at him, eyes twinkling. "You are too severe on me. And on yourself."

There was a brief moment when Vince saw a smile creep across the other man's face before they were interrupted by the arrival of Lydia and Kitty who, after a cursory curtsey began to pull Vince away toward the piano.

"They are opening the instrument, Vince, and you know what follows."

"You must play for us, Vince, so that we can sing and woo all the gentlemen with our voices."

"And you must sing too of course, you carry a tune better than any of us."

Vince tried to pull out of their grasp and sent an imploring look to Mr Darcy, only to receive an impassive on in return.

"I shall play for you but that is all," he told his sisters. "People don't want to hear a man's voice at a recital. Now go off with you both and organise the pages. I'll come and find you when I'm ready."

The two girls left with a pout and not even a nod to Mr Darcy as they went and Vince tried to hide his embarrassment behind his hair.

"I apologise for my sisters, sir," he said quietly. "Our father allows them too much freedom and our mother indulges their whims too often."

"I have heard it said, yes," Howard replied and then wanted to kick himself when he saw Vince bite his lip. This was not going as well as he had hoped but he was yet to openly insult the younger man and surely that had to count for something.

"I am keen to hear you play," he forwarded as they began to walk slowly toward the other end of the room where people were gathering around the pianoforte.

"I fear you will be disappointed," came Vince's reply. "I do not play as prettily as the young ladies and if it were not for my usefulness as accompanist to my sisters I fear that it would be too embarrassing for all concerned to have me sat at the piano publicly."

Howard nodded, slowing his steps and coming to face Vince.

"I used to play," he said nervously. "But was informed that it was a lady's pursuit." Vince blushed again and Howard wondered how much worse he could make this before ploughing on regardless.

"I wish now that I had continued with it. You have one up on me, sir."

They bowed stiffly and slightly to each other before Vince moved away to take his seat at the instrument.

His performance was very pleasing, better than Howard had been led to expect, and when the younger women had finished their pieces and bathed in the praise that they did not quite deserve, he was convinced to continue on at the seat to play a series of Scotch and Irish airs while his sisters and two or three others, along with half a dozen young officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room.

Howard stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, at their ignorance of the talent of their musician and that he could not speak alone with Vince. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he did not notice Sir William Lucas come to stand beside him until the older man spoke.

"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr Darcy! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies."

"Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world also. Every savage can dance."

And as Sir William stood, with his mouth hanging open, trying to decide whether he had been insulted or not, Howard excused himself and crept around the edge of the room until he found a seat for himself behind the dancers and, more importantly, behind the piano. There he found he was able to relax quietly, in the presence of the younger man and away from the bustle of the dancing and conversation and as he reclined there he noticed, as the playing continued, the small smile that settled upon the young Mr Bennet's face. Perhaps parties weren't so horrible after all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry to be bothering you all again but chapter seven got written and was keen to be seen. The characters continue to drift away from what I thought was the story line but they are still being very sweet so I'm letting them off. The song mentioned is of the approximate period and was one my aunt used to play to me. Ta.**

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Howard listened to the sound of the gravel crunching beneath their boots as they walked, trying to produce a compliment worthy of his companion.

"I am sure you have been told by many, more adept at compliments than I, that you play exceedingly well."

Vince let out a little snort at the compliment, then, upon realising so, blushed profusely and ducked his head.

"Not as often as you seem to imagine, Mr Darcy. Thank you." Howard felt a blush creeping up his own cheeks at the genuine gratitude in Vince's voice. And wondered how he could best continue the conversation.

"It was a shame though that your position behind the instrument prevented you from joining in the revelry," he said carefully.

They were walking sedately about the gardens at another of Bingley's teas and Howard was aware that he did not want to cause a scene by embarrassing his companion or himself. The rules of etiquette and social niceties gave him a headache sometimes and he wished he were simply allowed to speak plainly.

"You excel so much in the dance, Mr Bennet, that it is cruel to deny me - I mean anyone! - the happiness of seeing you; and though I myself dislike the amusement in general, your presence does at least make it bearable."

"Mr Darcy is all politeness," said Vince, smiling.

"You can call me Howard, you know."

"Howard?"

"Yes," Howard nodded, smiling nervously. "It is my name."

"Isn't it a little improper to do so?"

"Not between two friends, surely?" Howard countered. "As we walk together and converse, surely we can address each other as simply Vince and Howard?"

Vince blinked, his bright blue eyes seeming rather large in his pale face.

"Very well then, Howard," he said slowly. "If we are to be friends."

"Indeed, Vince," Howard replied, savouring the sound of Vince's name on his tongue and his own name on Vince's.

They continued to walk along the path, talking about the dancers the night before and Vince's preferred composers. Howard chuckled when he learned that the younger man had little time for the old, great composers and preferred the newer music coming out of Paris and America.

"But one must know the old greats, Vince," he argued light heartedly. "How can you appreciate the new unless you have knowledge of the old?"

Vince opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the arrival of Miss Bingley.

"I can guess the subject of your argument, I am sure," she said, smiling tightly and failing to acknowledge Vince as she slipped her hand around Howard's arm.

"I don't imagine you can," he replied formally.

"I heard you before, discussing the dancing of last night. I expect your are explaining to your young acquaintance how insupportable it is to pass so many evenings in this manner. And in such society," she glanced at Vince. "And I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity and yet the noise; the nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them."

Vince felt his stomach curdle when he saw her flutter her eyelashes in Howard's direction. He knew he shouldn't feel jealous. Howard, as a normal man, was entitled to enjoy the attentions of women. He had only moments ago been assured of Howard's friendship, surely that was enough. Had that not been his goal those weeks ago? To gain Howard's friendship?

But even as he felt reassured and excited that Howard considered him a friend, enough to suggest that they do away with the formalities when talking together, he knew it wouldn't be enough. His affection for the man had grown beyond his control as he learnt that he was not so much aloof as shy and far more deep thinking than most of the people they found themselves in company with.

"I am afraid you are mistaken."

Vince came back to the conversation with a start at the sound of Howard's blunt response.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you, Miss Bingley. My mind was more agreeably engaged. We were discussing composers," he gestured toward Vince and, as Miss Bingley turned, somehow managed to remove himself from the woman's grip. Vince attempted to hide his smile at this but it was a difficult task, especially in the face of Miss Bingley's scowl.

"In any case," Howard continued, making Vince jump. He had moved around until he stood behind Vince, and made him wonder at how a man of such stature could move so lightly. If Miss Bingley wanted to take a man's arm now she would have to take Vince's and he didn't think she would be particularly keen on that idea. He felt the smile beginning to burst forth again.

"I have been meditating only this morning on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes and a handsome face can bestow. A dance is a bearable thing when one has those delights to focus on."

Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, her desire to know the object of his affection obvious on her own features.

"And who might it be who has brought about such a change?" she enquired, her voice sounding tight despite her smile.

"That I cannot tell you, Miss Bingley," Howard replied, still standing directly behind Vince. "Those blue eyes and the one who bears them belong to me alone. I would not want to have to share. You understand, I am sure."

Vince stared up at her, willing his breath to remain steady even as he stared, wishing her to see his own blue eyes and make the connection that Howard had obviously wanted _him_ to make.

The lady, however, refused to look at him. She searched Howard's face a minute longer before offering him a brief curtsey.

"Mr Darcy, you are enigmatic as always. But I shall stay alert and am sure I shall discover the identity of your blue eyed lady. Do not doubt it."

"Miss Bingley," Howard bowed and Vince did likewise before they both turned and walked away as swiftly as they politely could to rejoin the safety of the larger party.

There was no opportunity for quiet conversation during the rest of the day but just as the Bennets prepared to leave Howard approached them, a few pages in his hand.

"Might I have a word with you?" Howard enquired formally and Vince walked the short way down the main drive with him, keeping his face carefully blank even though he felt as though a family of butterflies were attempting to flutter their way out of his stomach and up his throat.

"I..." Howard swallowed nervously. "I wanted to give you this," he said, offering the pages of what Vince now saw was music to him. "You may have gotten the impression that I had no time for modern music earlier today. I wanted you to have this so that you would know that I am able to appreciate a wide range of genres, even some things coming out of America."

Vince looked down at the music in his hands and read the title.

"Bright Blue Eyes?"

"Indeed."

"But..."

"I also wanted you to know that..." Howard wasn't certain how to draw the sentence to a conclusion. He wasn't even quite sure what he was trying to say exactly. He just wanted Vince to know.

"Blue eyes?"

"Yes."

"So it was?"

"You. Yes."

Vince nodded and breathlessly thanked him for the gift before turning slowly and walking back to his family. Lydia and Kitty pestered him for half the journey home as to why the dour Mr Darcy had given him a score of music until their father told them to be quiet or else he would lock them in the house and not let them attend another party until they were twenty years old. Jane heard nothing of the conversation, Vince noticed. She was too busy daydreaming of her time spent in the company of Mr Bingley. Vince wondered whether they were at the stage of using first names yet and resolved to ask her when they had some privacy. He desperately wanted to tell her of his own day with Howard but didn't know how one went about telling their sister that they were falling in love with a man who was supposed to have insulted him and been deemed unsociable and proud. He wasn't sure how one went about telling their sister that they were falling in love with any man for that matter. He feared what could happen if people knew the truth. It didn't seem fair, this prejudice against what he was.


	8. Chapter 8

**The story keeps writings itself. I tell it to stop but it doesn't listen.**

**Disclaimer: I certainly don't own this. It now owns me.**

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Half a week later, Lydia and Kitty returned home from their walk into town to announce the arrival of a militia regiment in the neighbourhood, to remain the whole winter, gossip gained for them by their aunt while in the haberdasher's. Vince's immediate thoughts were of foreboding. He had experienced trouble in the past with soldiers who had no understanding of fashion or that they could not simply push around younger boys and get away with it. Vince may not have been popular with most of the men in the town but any soldier who thought it was funny to poke fun at Vince Bennet soon found themselves on the receiving end of the displeasure of every women within ten miles of the town.

Still, Vince reassured himself, anything that provided a distraction for his sisters would be advantageous to him.

Even officers in red coats were not enough, however, to distract the Bennet girls when at the breakfast table the next morning a letter arrived from the Bingleys addressed to Miss Jane Bennet, with a servant waiting outside for a reply.

Mrs Bennet's eyes sparkled with pleasure at the sight of it, and she was eagerly calling out, while her daughter tried to read.

"Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love."

"It is from Miss Bingley," said Jane and then read it aloud.

"My dear Friend,

If you are not so compassionate as to dine today with me I fear I shall be in danger of dying of boredom, or loneliness, which ever shall come first. Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this. My brother and Mr Darcy are to dine with the officers.

Yours ever, Caroline Bingley."

"With the officers!" cried Lydia. "I wonder our aunt did not tell us of that."

"Dining out," said Mrs Bennet sourly. "That is very unlucky."

"Can I have the carriage?" asked Jane.

"No, my dear," replied their mother, her voice suddenly slowing and her eyes narrowing. "The carriage is in no fit state at this moment."

"But Mother," Jane protested.

"No, you shall go by horseback if you do not feel up to the walk."

"But, Mother," Vince interjected. "It looks likely to rain today."

"Precisely," replied Mrs Bennet. "And Jane shall have no choice but to stay the night."

"That's a good scheme," Vince answered. "If you were sure that they would not offer to send her home."

"Oh! But the gentlemen will have Mr Bingley's chaise to go to town. You see it is perfect."

Vince stared at his mother and knew that he had to give her credit, it was a cunning plan, especially by her standards. But of all his sisters he knew that Jane struggled the most with the walk from their estate to the Bingleys and she was never entirely comfortable on a horse on her own.

"I had much rather go in the coach."

"But my dear it is in no state to take you."

"Then I shall accompany her," Vince inserted, beginning to worry for his sister's nerves. He was met with a glare from his mother.

"You most certainly shall not. Your older sister is hardly in need of a chaperone on a visit to Miss Bingley and you are needed here to help your sisters with their singing."

"What?"

"If there to be another recital soon and the officers are to be there, Lydia and Kitty and Mary will need to be in good voice. Or do you want your poor sisters to live out their lives as spinsters?"

Vince was furious and the snigger he heard coming from Lydia's direction only increased his anger.

"It is settled then," Mrs Bennet announced. "Jane is to go by horseback. And," she continued, giving Vince a motherly smile. "When you have helped the girls with their music I have several yards of rose satin upstairs that Kitty fetched for me yesterday. You can use it for whatever you like."

Vince was trapped and he knew it. But rose satin. He could create something magnificent with that.


	9. Chapter 9

**The characters are sort of staying on plot for a change, this chapter. But I don't think they'll be doing my bidding for long. Sorry that this is turning into an epic.**

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"My dearest Vince,

I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning home till I am better.

They insisted also on my seeing Dr Ashcroft, therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me, and excepting a sore throat and head-ache, there is not much the matter with me.

Yours, Jane."

"Well, my dear," said Mr Bennet, when Vince had read the note aloud, "If your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness, if she should die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr Bingley, and under your orders."

"Oh! I am not afraid of her dying,"Mrs Bennet scoffed. "People do not die of trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the carriage."

Vince, feeling anxious for his sister, was determined to go to her, and knowing that the carriage was not to be had, he resolved to go by foot.

"I shall walk over and see Jane directly."

"How can you be so silly," cried his mother, "as to think of such a thing, in all this dirt and mud! Think of your boots! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there."

"I shall be very fit to see Jane. Which is all I want."

"Is this a hint to me, Vince," enquired his father. "To send for a horse for you?"

"No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing, I have walked it many times. I shall be back by dinner."

"It could very possibly rain again, Vince," his sister Mary observed. "Your hair would be ruined."

"I don't care!"

At this there was a gasp and every face at the table turned to stare at him in shock. Only his father seemed unsurprised and there was an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"I do believe that our son, your brother, has resolved to be quite chivalrous and dashing in this instance, and I do believe we should let him go about it."

He nodded sagely to Vince, who nodded back.

"Thank you, Father. And, as I say. I shall be back by dinner time."

It was not a particularly enjoyable walk that day. Vince took the most direct route, crossing field after field at the quickest pace he could manage, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles impatiently. Twice the thick mud tried to claim one of his boots and nearly toppled him as he navigated his way through, but finally he found himself within view of the house, with weary ankles, muddy boots, dirty stockings, tousled hair and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.

Upon arriving he was was shown directly into the breakfast parlour, something he had not counted on and, though he had made an effort to stomp the worst of the mud from his boots at the door, his appearance created a great deal of surprise. He was set in front of Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley and Mr Darcy and, he realised, he hadn't anticipated Howard seeing him in this state. He was received politely by Miss Bingley, with something better than politeness by Mr Bingley who was impressed by Vince's determination to be at his sister's side so soon after receiving news of her. Mr Darcy however, said very little. He was too busy admiring the brilliancy which exercise had given to the young man's complexion, and the way his eyes seemed to sparkle even more brightly in his anticipation to see his sick sister.

"How goes my sister?"

This question seemed to startle his hosts who continued to stare at him as though he were some rare bird.

"Jane? My sister?"

"Oh yes, indeed," Bingley responded eventually. "She is up, I believe, but still feverish and not at all well enough to leave her room. Would you like to see her?"

Vince glanced over at Howard who looked down at his empty tea cup in order to hide his smile.

"Yes, please, sir. If it is not too much trouble."

He was shown to Jane's room immediately; and Jane, who was starting to worry that she would simply be forgotten by her hosts and family, was delighted to see him. She wasn't up to much in the way of conversation and Vince silently attended to her until she fell into a fitful sleep. When he saw that she was finally dozing he withdrew a small piece of sewing from his pocket, made himself comfortable by the fire and set about customising his newest set of handkerchiefs.

Miss Bingley had their midday meal sent up to them and she herself appeared at two in the afternoon to check on them, her brother and Mr Darcy having gone out for a walk. When the clock struck three Vince felt that he had to go; and very unwillingly said so.

"I promised my parents I would return before dinner time."

"But you can't be thinking of walking back, surely," Miss Bingley looked out of the window, appalled.

"I do not mind the walk, I assure you."

"But it is beginning to rain again."

"Oh, Vince, please do not leave. Please don't go out in the rain." Jane's voice sounded so pitiful that even Miss Bingley felt sorry for her and, instead of offering her carriage to Vince, which she had meant to do, instead offered an invitation to stay. Vince most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to the Bennet residence to acquaint the family with his stay and to bring back a supply of clothes.

Vince wasn't pleased that his sister was ill, and the idea of spending an unspecified amount of time in the company of Miss Bingley made him squirm, but he could not deny that a little thrill went through him at the thought of spending the night in the same house as Mr Howard Darcy.


	10. Chapter 10

**This one ended up long so I split it in two and will post them together.**

**Sorry to be posting so much, eventually I'll have to go and do real work and then it'll all stop. Promise.**

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At five o'clock Miss Bingley retired to dress, and at half past six Vince was summoned to dinner. He had done his best with his appearance. He had cleaned his boots and looked over his coat, waistcoat and breeches and they were clean and respectable. He wished his other clothes had arrived but as it was, he would have to simply go down and be the odd one out. It would only confirm Miss Bingley's opinion of him as a country simpleton but there was nothing to be done about it. At least his hair looked fabulous. With a sigh and fond look at his sleeping sister, he went down to dinner.

It was a long meal and Howard seemed to take care not to look at him more than once. The one time Vince was able to catch his eye Howard blushed so fiercely that it was noticed by Miss Bingley.

"Why, Mr Darcy," she exclaimed. "You have gone red. I do hope there is not something about the meal that distresses you?"

Vince tried to stifle a giggle but when the lady's glare turned upon him the giggle turned into a cough which took him several minutes to free himself of.

"Perhaps he was taken by the pepper in the dish, Miss Bingley," he told her with watering eyes. "As I myself seem to have just done."

Bingley agreed, and thought it was jolly funny that they two had been struck so by the pepper when he himself could barely taste it. Miss Bingley did not seem so amused and pointedly turned her head away from Vince so she did not have to look at him as she ate. Vince did not attempt to gain Howard's eyes after that and sat quietly, speaking only when Mr Bingley enquired after his sister.

"She is still not well, I am afraid," he told him as formally as he could. "And I must thank you again for your hospitality toward the both of us."

"No, not at all, of course she is need of a member of her family to be with her when she is ill. I must say it is remarkable to see a brother and sister with such a bond. I am sure Caroline would not want me within her sick room!"

Miss BIngley tutted at this and Howard let out a low, rumbling chuckle which caused Vince to feel a blush slowly rising up his own cheeks.

"It is indeed remarkable," he noted. "Especially in a boy your age, to take such care of his sister, and indeed all of his sisters, as I have seen you do."

The blush had very certainly reached his cheeks now and Vince felt it continue up toward his hair as he bent his head over his food, hoping no one would notice Howard's affect upon him.

"How old are you exactly, Vince?" Mr Bingley suddenly asked. "I may call you Vince, mayn't I?" Vince wondered if it was possible for his hair to blush as well as his skin. It certainly felt like it was.

"Of course you may, Mr Bingley," he replied nervously.

"Surely you cannot expect Mr Bennet to tell you his age, Christopher," Miss Bingley interjected. "Is that not a grossly impertinent question?"

"I do not think so," Mr Bingley replied. "He is not one of his sisters, after all. There can be no fear for him in answering to his age."

"I am just gone twenty," Vince told him softly, not really wanting to re-enter the conversation but liking less the idea of Miss Bingley arguing about him while he was still at table.

"Twenty, are you really?" she said, coming near to squawking in her surprise. Vince saw Howard hide a smile and noted that Bingley made no attempt to hide his.

"You look no older than fifteen, I am sure."

"No, Miss Bingley, I am quite sure of my age."

"It must be because of your slight stature, I suppose," she continued, smiling in a manner that reminded Vince of a hound, riled and ready for the hunt. "Or perhaps because you spend so much of your time in the company of women. Was that not your sewing I saw beside your sister's bed this afternoon?"

Vince knew very well that he was being insulted and that there was little he could to defend himself in the situation that Miss Bingley would not use against him, to say to any who would listen that the Bennets were uncouth and unworthy of associating with the Bingleys. He chose to simply smile at her instead, which annoyed her far more in any case.

"Sewing is a useful pass time on a rainy day I have found," he told her after giving himself a moment of calm. "And I had no one about to guide me to the library for a book or to the kitchen or drawing room, so simply made the best of what was available to me."

He hadn't really meant it as an insult to her hospitality but he knew that she took is so. But any further comment on the subject was prevented by Bingley's laugh.

"Why, but we did neglect you with your patient today, didn't we, Vince?"

"Not at all, Mr Bingley. I came here to tend to her and simply amused myself with what I had while she slept."

"Well, if she is a little better tomorrow I will escort you to the library myself," Bingley told him before breaking into a rather large and mischievous grin.

"Or perhaps I shall ask Mr Darcy to do it while I answer some correspondents?"

"Of course," Howard replied quietly, looking at his friend with some suspicion.

"Excellent," Christopher announced as the remains of their dinner was cleared away. "And Vince? Do call me Christopher."


	11. Chapter 11

**And here's the next part. Gosh I have no life. Time to go and do something constructive, like making a paper mache Charlie Bubblegum for my 2-year-old.**

**And thank you to Castie67 for the reviews!**

**Disclaimer: It don't own this stuff. I just mess with it.**

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When dinner was over, Vince immediately excused himself and returned directly to Jane. Miss Bingley barely waited for him to be out of earshot before she began abusing him.

"Such very bad manners," she announced as she paced about the drawing room. "I might have dismissed it from a boy of fifteen but from a man of twenty it was quite unacceptable. You must agree, Mr Darcy?"

"Quite the contrary," Howard began but the lady was barely listening to him.

"He has little to recommend him as a companion, Christopher, I do not know why you insist on indulging him. Or indulging the entire family for that matter. What on earth could you see to like in such a country ragamuffin?"

"I have seen no such faults in his person, Caroline," Christopher answered lazily. "He is a young man of fine wit, who does not put himself too much forward, with excellent taste in clothes but not too precious about them to prevent him walking across country to tend on his sister."

"You observed his impertinent manner and appearance, Mr Darcy, I am sure," Miss Bingley turned, vexed at her brother's refusal to take her side in the matter. "And I am inclined to think you would not wish to see your own younger brother make such an exhibition as walking through the mud simply for a visit."

"Certainly not."

"To walk across the fields simply because his sister has a cold, what could he mean by it? Especially for a sister who seems rather lacking in affection toward anyone. Though she is polite in my company she was hardly a compelling tea time companion."

Personally, Howard thought that Miss Bingley was pushing the topic a little too hard but then, he supposed, she had been shut indoors for two days with little else to amuse her. He did not appreciate the description she was making of Vince Bennet but he could not help wondering at her views on Miss Jane Bennet and the family in general.

His rather negative view of the family was sadly confirmed the following day when Mrs Bennet and her three younger daughters visited the house to enquire upon Jane's health. If Jane had been seriously ill Mrs Bennet would have been troubled, but as she seemed only to have a fever and an aching head, she was quite happy to leave her as she was.

"We must beg your hospitality a little longer, I fear, Mr Bingley," she simpered as they sat together, taking tea. Vince seemed uncomfortable with his mother's display and his sisters' giggling and Howard could understand his embarrassment.

"Not at all," Bingley replied. "It would be a sin to even think of moving her before she is entirely recovered. She is most welcome, as is your son."

Mrs Bennet beamed and Howard watched as Vince shrank away, already dreading what his mother would say next.

"Yes, he is quite the most helpful lad, is he not. A doting brother to his sisters. Why, when Jane was only fifteen and he fourteen and they spent a season in the city with my brother, there was a young gentleman who took quite a shine to Jane but Vince would not have it. Even though he wrote her some very pretty poetry, Vince made it clear that his sister was far too young to be so courted."

Howard watched the story unfold. Mrs Bennet was obviously proud of her daughter's beauty and her son's desire to protect her virtue but there was something else there too and when he looked at Vince again he saw that for Vince, the telling of this story was a rebuke and a reminder that his chaperoning of his sister was neither wanted nor required.

"It would have been nice, I must say, to have been able to marry off the girls at that age but alas, my husband raised Vince to have quite old-fashioned morals. They returned home to us and the young gentleman ceased his poetry to Jane."

"All the better for the written word, I should think." Vince made his remark quietly but Howard could not let it pass without comment.

"I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love," he said.

"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Every thing nourishes what is strong already. But if it is only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one poorly metered sonnet will starve it entirely away."

"And how would you recommend a man go about wooing one he sought to keep by his side for a life time?"

It was a forward question and Howard tried to ignore the other people in the room; the smirk on the face of Miss Bingley, the confusion on the face of Mrs Bennet, the giggles of the youngest Miss Bennets, the intrigue on the face of Miss Mary Bennet and, worst of all the knowing look on the elegant features of Christopher Bingley. He tried to focus only on Vince. The younger man was nervous, that was clear, but there was also amusement in his eyes and he was choosing his words carefully, Howard judged, by the serious line of his brows.

"I would recommend... at least for myself... music, Mr Darcy." Lydia giggled inelegantly but Vince ignored her and continued and Howard urged him on with his eyes.

"Or a shared interest in something such as nature or literature. However, if I may speak plainly, Mr Darcy, I think that when love is meant to grow between two people it will simply do so, whether they write sonnets in praise of each others beauty or send tokens or whether they do not. Such things are helpful reminders of the love shared but are by no means responsible for creating it."

Howard only smiled and nodded, and the general pause which ensued made Vince tremble lest his true meaning be realised or his mother should make a mockery of herself yet again.

After a short while Mrs Bennet began to repeat her thanks to Mr Bingley for his kindness to Jane with an apology for troubling him also with Vince. Mr Bingley was unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his sister to be civil also. She performed her part, although without much graciousness, but Mrs Bennet was satisfied and left soon afterwards, having ensured Jane was sleeping handed over the clothing Vince had requested. As they were finally taking their leave Lydia stepped forward to address Mr Bingley.

"Do you remember, sir, that some weeks ago you promised us a ball here at your fine home?"

"Why of course I do," Mr Bingley responded, slightly bemused by the girl's forwardness.

"Lydia," Vince warned her. "Do not be so impertinent."

"Hush now," his mother told him. "She is being nothing of the sort." And to the company at large. "He is such a protective brother, you can see. But old fashioned, as I said, because of his father."

"It is not a problem at all," Mr Bingley continued, noticing Vince's discomfort and noticing how Howard had noticed it too. "I do remember my promise to give a ball here, and when you sister is well, Miss Bennet, you shall name the day."

This was met with a delighted squeal and it was with relief that the Bingleys, Mr Darcy and Vince bid farewell the Bennet women.

Vince excused himself very soon after but found, upon reaching the stairs, that he was not alone.

"Shall I show you the library? Vince?"

Howard's tone was formal and almost distant but Vince did not blame him for it. An hour or two spent in the company of his mother and younger sisters could only cause a man such as Howard Darcy great discomfort.

"Thank you, Mr Darcy," he replied and wondered why the other man seemed disappointed.

"Are you we no longer - friends?" he enquired after they had walked in silence a full two minutes.

"I-" Vince was not entirely sure how to best respond. "I would like to imagine that we are," he said softly.

"Yet you choose to call me Darcy instead of Howard?"

They stopped in front of the door to the library and Vince looked into the inquiring brown eyes of the older man.

"I had worried that my earlier words, or the words of my mother and sister, might have made you think less of me. But yes, Howard, it pleases me to think that we are friends."

Howard opened the door and gestured for Vince to enter ahead of him. It was a chivalrous gesture, Vince noticed. Like one might put forth when wooing. It was certainly not expected between two friends, two male friends. Vince did not have many male friends but he was almost certain that the care Howard was taking now in his presence was a sign of something greater than friendship. At least he hoped such was the case.

The library was not meagre but was far from being great and Vince searched out a few simple books that he thought his sister would enjoy listening to while in her weakened condition. As he moved about the room he became aware that Howard was watching him and not simply watching what he was doing but the way he was going about it, the movements of his body as he stretched to a high shelf or bent over to pluck a book of fairy tales from a lower one. He soon found himself beginning to blush again. In fact it seemed that his whole body was becoming rather warm and, as he turned toward Howard with his collected books in his arms he enquired whether he felt the same.

"It is rather warm in here, do you not think so?"

Howard, who was staring intently at the books in Vince's arms, agreed that it did indeed feel unnaturally warm in the library and they departed quickly, taking care not to let their bodies brush against one another as they exited the room.

"Are you fond of reading then, Vince?" Howard eventually asked when they were nearly at Jane's room.

"If what I have before me is worth reading," Vince replied. "I am very fond of stories as the fanciful tales in my arms will attest. As a boy I enjoyed making up stories for my sisters about a strange creature names Charlie made entirely of pink sheets and cobbler's glue but, alas, I am an appalling speller and the stories never made it onto paper."

Howard smiled at the idea of a young Vince regaling his sisters with fantastical tales of made-up creatures and, seeing that his hands were otherwise engaged, opened the door for him.

"Shall I see you at dinner this evening?"

"I should hope so. Unless Miss Bingley has decided to send me down to eat with the staff instead."

"She would not be so obviously rude, I assure you," Howard said, even though he could see Vince was joking.

"And will you sit with us a little while after dinner, perhaps?"

"If my sister is well enough to do without me, I shall endeavour to sit with you for as long as I can."

They smiled to each other, gave their bows and then with a smile that sent tingles down Howard's spine, Vince slipped through the door to attend on his sister.


	12. Chapter 12

**Back again. This scene started out following the book but then Christopher stuck his nose in.**

**Disclaimer: I own very little.**

**Reviews are love?**

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The rest of the day passed quietly and, after a particularly silent dinner, Vince checked to see that Jane was sleeping soundly and joined the rest of the small party in the drawing room, bringing a book with him. He had toyed briefly with the thought of taking some sewing or needlework to do but worried that it would embarrass Howard and cause Miss Bingley to have some sort of fit. The woman did not seem to deal well with people behaving outside the social strictures of her own circle.

Howard sat at the desk writing letters and Christopher and Miss Bingley were supposedly engaged in a game of droughts. Miss Bingley however, seemed far more interested in bothering Howard and Vince found great amusement in watching her stand up from her game, wander over to the writing desk, pass some superfluous comment, to which the reply was always short, before she wandered back to her game, only to repeat the pattern again five minutes later.

It was a fine game to watch until she noticed his amusement and decided to remain where she was, standing unnecessarily close to the desk, or so it seemed to Vince.

"You write uncommonly fast, Mr Darcy."

"You are mistaken. I write rather slowly."

"To whom do you write?"

"To my brother."

"Oh, dear Michael. How delighted he will be to receive such a letter, Mr Darcy!"

"That is doubtful, I assure you. Boys of his age are rarely keen readers of letters."

"But you sell yourself short, Mr Darcy, I'm sure."

Vince's interest had been piqued by the mention of Howard's brother. He had always wanted a younger brother, if only to have someone to run and chase with and design waistcoats for. There were only so many he could make for himself before his father noticed and called him out on his conceit.

"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of the year, Mr Darcy. Letters of business too! How odious I should think them."

"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours."

Vince tried to hide his chuckle behind his book but noticed that Christopher wasn't bothering to hide his own amusement as he sauntered across the room to sit beside Vince on the lounge.

"My sister thinks that if she endures she will draw him into conversation and he will notice how witty and charming she is," he whispered to Vince. "She has been attempting to do so for some years, it pains me to admit, but Howard is rarely drawn into conversation."

Vince looked up, confused. Surely as Howard's close friend Bingley must converse with him regularly.

"I can see the look in your eye, Vince," Christopher continued to whisper. "We are great friends, Howard and me and his advice is always sure and reasoned and his wit is sharp but he is not one for long conversations. Except with you, it seems."

Vince bit his lip and looked down at his book but Bingley continued regardless.

"I have seen the way he speaks to you, Vince. The way he wants to speak to you and I have concluded that it is something quite special, quite unique. I fear my sister is jealous."

"Oh," was all Vince could think to offer in reply. Part of him was very full of fear that Christopher Bingley had noticed his and Howard's attraction to one another, but another part was full of wonder at the fact that this man with whom his acquaintance had been quite short, did not seem repulsed by the attraction between the two men. He knew he was very lucky indeed to have friends such as Bingley and Charlotte who, if anything, seemed to approve and encourage him in the strange relationship developing between himself and Howard.

"It is a strange thing to have a rival," he said in a voice so quiet he wondered whether Christopher would even hear him. "And stranger still for one's rival to be a woman."

Christopher's answering chuckle was equally quiet and together they turned their attention back to Miss BIngley and her hapless victim.

"I am afraid you do not like your pen, Mr Darcy. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well."

"Thank you - but I always mend my own."

"How can you contrive to write so even?"

He was silent.

"Tell your brother I am delighted to hear of his improvement with his new horse, and pray let him know that I am quite excited at the prospect of seeing him ride. You must tell him, Mr Darcy."

"Will you give me leave to defer your raptures until I write again? At present I have no room to them justice."

"Oh, it is of no consequence, Mr Darcy. I shall see him in January."

Vince snorted and Bingley arched an eyebrow at him.

"I do not like the way she says, 'Mr Darcy' so very often."

Christopher nodded and gave another little laugh.

"I quite agree, it is annoying, and must seem doubly so for you, but our friend Howard has never given her leave to call him anything other than Mr Darcy, and so she says it as often as she can, in the hope that he will eventually engage her to call him Howard. I cannot see it happening, however. I think you are quite safe."

And with that he stood.

"You write too long, Howard," he said in a louder voice.

"Any man's letter could be thought long when compared with yours, Christopher," came the response, but Vince could see that Howard was finally smiling, even if the smile was slight.

"But I grow weary of the sound of your pen scratching. It is not a pretty music."

"And what do you propose instead, brother?" Miss Bingley snapped, obviously put out at having her conversation with Mr Darcy derailed.

"I suggest some music to soothe our bodies and minds before we retire."

"Oh, well of course-"

"Vince, would you play for us?"

The indignation on Miss Bingley's face and the amusement on Howard's and Bingley's was enough to make Vince give his assent and he strode purposefully toward the instrument and sat down. Howard moved from the writing desk and sat on the lounge where Vince had been and Bingley sat next to him before his sister could think to do so. She sat herself rather ungracefully at the droughts table instead while Vince thought for a moment about what he might play.

The joy he saw in Howard's eyes when he began to play Mozart's Piano Concerto in C made his heart soar and as his fingers danced over the keys he felt that he had never played so well in his entire life, or for a more willing audience than he did now for Howard Darcy.


	13. Chapter 13

**The boys are breaking away from the book and acting a little then it got a little bit sad... I blame the number 13. It has always been troublesome.**

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The next day progressed easily. Jane was recovering well and, when lunch came delivered at the hands of Howard Darcy himself Vince worried that he might swoon. It was an uncommon thing for a man to find himself being wooed in such a manner and, when Howard asked if he might be free to join him on a walk about the garden later that day, Vince saw Jane nodding vigorously from her bed and immediately agreed.

"Your Mr Darcy seems to have turned into a fine man under your guidance, Vince," Jane said later as they ate their meal together.

"He is hardly my Mr Darcy, Jane," Vince countered nervously.

"He most certainly is, brother. Mary and I have long wondered whether you would be of that particular persuasion and decided last spring that since she had no interest in men you had better do so on her behalf."

Vince sat, his fork halfway between his plate and his mouth, wondering how he could possibly respond to his sister's statement.

"You mean Mary is..."

"Indeed."

"And you do not mind? About her? And me?"

"No, Vince. It is not really my business who you fancy, except that I want to see you happy and with someone who will love you as you deserve to be loved."

"I don't know quite what to say," Vince murmured, returning his fork and food to his plate uneaten. "I had not thought people would be so easy about such a matter."

"Well," said his older sister gently. "I would certainly urge you to use caution. I would not necessarily speak of it with Mother, and Father might find it difficult. Lydia and Kitty are too stupid to understand and I doubt you would want to talk to them on such matters anyway. I certainly would not wish to discuss matters of the heart or matters of the bedroom with those girls."

Vince nodded his agreement vigorously before leaning in to embrace his sister.

"I have so much wanted to express to you how I have felt, becoming friends with Howard. He talks to me as he doesn't with others. He says my eyes are pleasing and my face handsome and appreciates my playing upon the piano."

The words came out in a rush that made Jane laugh but the laugh quickly turned to a cough and Vince fetched her a glass of water.

"I only wish things were so easy between Mr Bingley and myself," she sighed when she had regained her breath.

"Are they not so? He is a charming man and you are a pleasing young woman. It seems like it should be straight forward between you?"

"I do not know how to show him my love though, Vince," Jane said mournfully. "He is light and charming as you say but I cannot match his wit. I fear he knows nothing of my feelings."

"When you are well, he intends to hold a ball here," Vince said comfortingly. "You shall dance with him and he will know, by the way you hold his hand in yours that you love him, I am sure of it."

Jane smiled at him and bid him finish his lunch that he might not be late for his walk with Mr Darcy but Vince could not help but feel uneasy, Charlotte's words coming unbidden to his mind. What if Christopher truly could not discern Jane's feelings? And if she could not give him the encouragement that he needed, what would become of their delicately blooming romance?

Walking with Vince was beyond pleasant, Howard decided. He had tried to demonstrate his knowledge by pointing out to the younger man the different plants that filled the garden and explaining how each had been planted to give maximum colour and produce a layered effect. But Vince only smiled at him indulgently and pointed out the different species of bird that frequented the trees surrounding the garden, demonstrating their calls and what each meant as if he could really talk to the animals he seemed so enchanted by.

Vince thought that perhaps he should talk to Howard, plainly, about what was between them. He thought too that he aught to speak of his sister and how she felt so strongly for Bingley but found that simply talking of nothing with Howard was too much fun to give up. The banter between them began to flow with an ease that Howard himself was surprised by and before they knew it, a full two hours had passed and the early night of winter was drawing in.

"I suppose your sister shall be well enough to return home within a day or two," Howard said with a hint of melancholy as they made their way back to the house.

"I suppose so."

"And you with her."

"Indeed."

"I-"

Howard stopped walking and Vince stopped with him, the two men standing shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the house with heads too full of emotion for clear thought.

"It will be a lonelier house without you in it," Howard observed eventually.

Vince bit his lip. He didn't know what he could say in response so settled for a nod instead. Howard seemed so sad and it didn't seem fair to Vince that someone so beautiful should be so and with that thought in mind he slipped his hand into Howard's and grasped it tight.

They stood like that for a moment and Vince thought he might float away were it not for the hold he had on Howard when suddenly the older man, his friend, the person he had only just realised he loved, pulled away abruptly to stand a good foot away from him.

"What did you... You should not... We cannot... Don't touch me..."

Howard did not know what he was trying to say, only that he knew that it was a dangerous thing for Vince to be so brazen in his affection and equally dangerous for Howard to enjoy it. It didn't matter that they had feelings for one another. Such feelings were not natural, were not socially acceptable, at least not in any social circle he would willingly engage with. He could not continue in this fashion, as much as it pained him.

"Vince," he whispered, and saw the beautiful young man turn to face him.

"I know, Howard."

And with that they parted, each to dress for dinner which was, aside from Miss Bingley's occasional remarks, once again a silent affair.

The next day the carriage was sent for and Jane and Vince returned home, both feeling, as they held hands tightly, that they may have missed their chance at happiness.


	14. Chapter 14

**Short bit, longer bit to come. Writing seems to be like reading. I don't want emerge from fantasy world until I'm finished and so I keep on writing bits.**

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Vince and Jane were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother.

Mrs Bennet wondered at their coming home so soon and thought them very wrong to give so much trouble, and complained that she was sure Jane would have caught cold again. But their father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see them. He had felt their importance in the family circle when they had been absent. The evening conversation had lost much of its animation, and almost all its sense, by the absence of Jane and Vince.

They found Mary, as usual, deep in study in the library and when Jane whispered something in her ear she gave Vince a wide grin and a wink which, inexplicably, made him blush. Her giggle was equally unexpected and she attempted to cover it with a cough and hid deeper among her books. Jane smiled indulgently at them both before taking Vince's arm to help her up the stairs.

Kitty and Lydia informed them of the happenings among the regiment, most of which was of little interest to Vince but he listened all the same as it at least meant that they were not asking questions about Mr Darcy of him. Life was back to normal, or so it seemed, until the next morning at the breakfast table.

"I hope my dear," said Mr Bennet to his wife as they were all sat down for breakfast, "that you have ordered a good dinner today, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party."

"Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in, and I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home."

"The person of whom I speak is a gentleman and a stranger."

"A gentleman and a stranger!" Mrs Bennet's eyes sparkled. "It is Mr Bingley, I am sure. Why Jane, you never dropped a word of this-"

"It is not Mr Bingley," interrupted her husband. "It is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life."

This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his wife, four daughters and son all at once. After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he relented and explained.

"About a month ago I received a letter, and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy. It is from my cousin, Mr Bainbridge Collins, who it seems has been looking closely at the inheritance record of our family since my grandfather and his brother had such a falling out in the years before their deaths and, as a result, feels that there is an argument for his being the rightful inheritor of the house in which we currently live."

"But Vince is the rightful inheritor of this house!"

"It would appear that this knowledge is in dispute," Mr Bennet continued and Vince began to feel nervous. "But, as Mr Collins would have me believe he is a man of strong morals and a desire to see the family united once more, he has requested our hospitality for a week in order that we might know one another better come to some sort of arrangement."

"Arrangement!" Mrs Bennet screeched. "What, would he have Vince share his home? His inheritance, with a distant relative, a stranger who has no right to the property? It is absurd!"

"I am sure your assessment of the situation is a sound one, my dear," Mr Bennet went on, without so much as blink of his eye to betray him. "But the matter remains that the gentleman will be with us at four o'clock and that we are obliged to treat him with civility and hospitality if not genuine affection."

"But what can he mean by this 'coming to an arrangement', Mr Bennet?" Mrs Bennet went on, not to be put off her bad humour.

"I would not fear for Vince's inheritance, my dear. I think that story to be no more than a flimsy excuse. I think he means, Mrs Bennet, to request the hand of one of our daughters."

The silence that fell at the table was so complete that Vince wondered whether, if he were to drop his spoon to the floor, it would make any sound at all or simply hit the wood with no audible clue to it's fate.

"At least you are safe then, Vince," Mary said eventually, breaking the spell of silence that had fallen on the family. Vince looked across the table at her and realised that she looked decidedly unwell.


	15. Chapter 15

**More period drama from me. Sorry.**

**And another chapter to follow straight after this, because it's already written.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these ideas. I've just been sucked into their unreality.**

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Four o'clock arrived all too soon for the Bennet family. Their mother had them line up in the front hall, as she had been want to do when they were children, from eldest to youngest with Vince feeling quite out of place in the arrangement. At least this ordering meant that he was placed between Jane on his right and Mary on his left, and when they heard the approach of a carriage both sisters grabbed his hands for support.

Mr Bainbridge Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great politeness by the whole family. Indeed, Mrs Bennet seemed to have changed her opinion of him entirely when she heard that he might be interested in taking one of her daughters for her, but Jane and Mary certainly did not share her enthusiasm. Mr Bennet said little; but Mrs Bennet was ready enough to talk, and Mr Collins seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was not a tall man but solidly built with a large horseshoe moustache which immediately got on Vince's nerves. Not that Mr Collins seemed in any hurry to build up a relationship with Vince. He had not been long seated in the sitting room before he complimented Mrs Bennet on having so fine a family of daughters. He said he had heard much of their beauty, but that, in this instance, fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that he did not doubt her seeing them all in due time well disposed of in marriage. The gallantry was not much to the taste of the three elder Bennet children but Mrs Bennet did not quarrel with a compliment and answered most readily.

"You are very kind, sir, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may prove so."

The smile Mr Collins sent in the direction of Jane and Mary made both girls turn pale and Vince instinctively sought to protect them, sitting himself forward to shield his sisters from their lecherous cousin.

They were thankfully interrupted by a summons to dinner; and Vince chose to escort this sisters to the table, leaving Mr Collins to walk with Kitty and Lydia who were asking him whether he had ever thought to hide a pistol in the depths of his moustache. Extricating himself from the two youngest Bennets Mr Collins seated himself and insisted on leading the family in a long-winded prayer and then continued with an equally long-winded compliment of the meal. He was progressing winningly with Mrs Bennet until he enquired as to which of his fair cousins the excellent cooking was owing.

"We are not so mean that any of my daughters are expected to cook, Mr Collins. We are very able to keep an excellent cook, I assure you. I am sure my daughters do not even know the whereabouts of the kitchen."

"Oh, I do beg your pardon, ma'am. I did not mean to displease you. You have a very fine cook and I am sure your children all have hands too fine for kitchen work."

Vince snorted into his soup and this soon sent Lydia and Kitty into a fresh wave of giggles. It took Mr Collins a minute before he realised that his compliment, meant for the sisters, had also implied a compliment to Vince's hands.

"I am not at all offended, Mr Collins," Mrs Bennet said, rather more loudly than she needed to. Vince tried to control the laughter threatening to bubble free but when Jane and Mary started to shake with mirth he gave the fight up and let himself laugh until Mr Bennet declared that if the five of them carried on in that fashion they would give themselves indigestion.

Mr Collins continued to apologise to Mrs Bennet until the desert arrived and had only just made his way to a new line of conversation when Mr Bennet announced that it was time to retire once more to the sitting room.

When they were all seated, Mary and Jane as far away as possible from their guest and Vince between them, Mr Bennet finally felt that it would be prudent to converse with his guest.

"I hear you are a man of the church, Mr Collins?" He asked with bare indifferent. "And very fortunate in your patroness."

"Indeed, for a man of my evident talent and intelligence little else would have been appropriate. The Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a woman of infinite grace and importance. She made not the smallest objection to me joining in the society of the neighbourhood when I arrived nor to my leaving my parish occasionally for a week or two, to visit my relations, such as they are."

"We are much obliged to the lady, I am sure," was Mr Bennet's dry answer and Vince bit his lip to stop the laughter from returning.

"The man is a fool," Mary whispered in his ear.

"Certainly," Jane whispered on his other side. "And everyone can see it except him."

Vince nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he heard the rest of Mr Collins's monologue.

"The Lady Catherine has been reckoned proud by many people I have met, but I have never seen any thing but affability in her. She has even condescended to advise me to marry as soon as I may, provided I choose with discretion; and she once even paid me a visit in my parsonage; and perfectly approved all the alterations I had been making, and even vouchsafed to suggest some herself, some shelves in the closets upstairs. She is quite the most remarkable lady."

There was a lengthy silence at the end of his speech which eventually ended when Vince took pity on his pompous cousin.

"She certainly sounds impressive, cousin."

"She is that. It would do you good to meet her, I am sure of it. Perhaps when I am settled with my wife there you will visit us and enjoy our hospitality, cousin."

Vince attempted a reply but simply could not take the man seriously and after a moment, thankfully, his mother took over the conversation.

"I am sure Vince would be most pleased to be asked, Mr Collins, you are too kind. And I hear that the Lady Catherine is a widow and has but one daughter? Pray, what is her name?"

Vince knew that look in his mother's eye and knew it did not bode well. He groaned just loud enough for his sisters to hear and heard Mary chuckle.

"You are not so safe as you thought after all, Vince," Jane whispered. "Our mother would have you married off to a rich heiress as quickly as she would have one of us married off to Mr Collins. You must be on your guard, little brother."

Vince gave a small nod and the rest of the evening passed in sombre quiet save Mr Collins's droning voice and the occasional, uncontrollable titter from Kitty.


	16. Chapter 16

**Ah, Bainbridge, he made his way in to the story, of course. Who else could play a man so pompous and ridiculous as Mr Collins.**

**Hope you like it. Reviews are always nice. **

**Ta.**

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Mr Bainbridge Collins was not a sensible man, but he was possessed of a certain measure of cunning. Having now a good house and very sufficient income, he intended to marry and his visit to the Bennet family was done so with this in mind. He knew that any claim he might have on the family inheritance was flimsy at best but thought that bringing up the fact that a dispute might exist could make Mr Bennet more inclined to give his assent to Mr Collins's proposal, when it came.

His plan did not vary on seeing them, although he did spend a thoroughly confusing ten minutes before he realised that the prettiest of the girls was in fact the brother. After that he chose to set his sights on the two eldest Bennet sisters. His first thought was of course to the eldest, due to her seniority in the family as the oldest unmarried daughter but after a quarter of an hour's tete-a-tete with Mrs Bennet before breakfast the next day, in which Mrs Bennet mentioned repeatedly that there were hopes for Miss Jane Bennet to soon be attached to one Mr Christopher Bingley, Mr Collins changed his affections to the next sister, Mary.

Mrs Bennet felt very pleased at her mornings work and trusted that she might soon have two daughters married; and the man whom she had thought of as absurd the day before was now high in her good graces.

Lydia announced her determination to go into the town that day and Mrs Bennet agreed that it would be a fine exercise for all of her children.

"And you of course must join them, Mr Collins," she simpered.

"Yes, of course, Mrs Bennet, it would be an honour to act as chaperone to the young ladies."

Vince looked up from his plate and simply stared at Mr Collins until the other man blushed.

"I do not think we are in need of a chaperone, Mr Collins," he said as seriously as he could manage. "But you are welcome to walk with us if you believe you will be able to keep pace."

"I am sure I can keep pace with young ladies," Mr Collins guffawed. "And yourself, of course, cousin."

"I think for myself I shall stay at home," Mary said quietly. "There is little to amuse me in the town."

"Not at all, Mary," her mother interjected. "You are in need of the exercise and the conversation in town shall do you good."

"If you find the walk strenuous I will happily offer my arm, Miss Bennet," Mr Collins smiled, causing Mary to blanche and Vince to scowl.

"But I am sure you walk at a strong pace, Mr Collins," Mary replied, keeping her eyes low. "My brother knows my pace and shall be able to support me very well, thank you."

"You are quite right sister," Vince said. "And as I have been away from home these last days we have much to catch up on. I am sure we shall be engrossed in each others company for the entire journey."

Mr Collins did not look pleased and Mrs Bennet even less so but Mary looked greatly relieved and Vince decided that the best course of action was to ignore his mothers looks and simply do what he knew was right.

As they were preparing to make their way and Vince was settling his hat upon his head, ensuring that it sat at a stylishly jaunty angle, his mother appeared in the mirror's reflection, her eyes stern and her mouth set in a thin line.

"I hope I do not need to remind you, Vince, that you are not in fact responsible for the marriage arrangements of your sisters."

Vince adjusted his hat once more, attempting to ignore his mother.

"And I might also remind you that if your sisters remain unmarried they will be your responsibility to feed and keep when your father is dead and gone. If Mr Collins wishes to take an interest in Mary, you shall let him and she will learn to tolerate it."

"Do you really understand so little of your children, Mother?"

He knew it was wrong to show such temper but he simply could not restrain himself any longer.

"How could you ever entertain the possibility of someone like Mr Collins bringing Mary happiness?"

"I know my children's minds well enough, I thank you. I know you all well enough to know that what Mary would choose for herself would ruin us all. I know too that your friendship with Mr Darcy has been spoken of by a few as becoming unhealthy. What say you to that, my son?"

Vince had nothing to say. He could not lie, not even to defend himself and Mary and so instead he stormed from the house to meet his sisters and the clueless Mr Collins. Mary took one arm and Jane the other and in silence they began their walk into town.


	17. Chapter 17

**One more chapter and then I'll leave you alone for now. Promise.**

**There's another new character in this one. I thought to myself, who would really annoy Howard? And couldn't think of someone who'd fit. So I thought, who'd annoy Julian Barratt or any of his other characters. And then I realised that a character like Wickham could only be played by the Idiot himself: Nathan Barley. So here it be: Chapter 17.**

**More things I just do not own.**

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On their way into the town they met up with Charlotte, who was dutifully introduced to Mr Collins and who, sensing the tension in the group, set her herself the task of acquainting herself with Mr Collins and keeping him as far away as possible from Vince. Once in the town the distractions were sufficient that Vince was able to forget for a time that he was in a bad humour, especially when Charlotte insisted on taking Mr Collins to the opposite end of the street to show him their own charming church. Vince discussed ribbons with Kitty, waved to many of the ladies he met, rolled his eyes at Lydia's giddiness and noticed with great pleasure that the two men on horseback making their way toward their group were in actual fact, Mr Christopher Bingley and Mr Howard Darcy. Lydia however, had begun to drag them in the direction of two dashing young officers.

"Good day, Mr Jonathan," she trilled. "Won't you introduce me to your friend? I had thought that we knew every officer in the neighbourhood and yet my sister and I have not been introduced to this young man."

Kitty batted her eyelashes and Vince groaned at her forwardness. He could not fault the girls for their taste, however. The officer seemed a few years older than he and had an energy about him that Vince could appreciate. He wondered if the man would dance well.

"My apologies dear ladies," offered Mr Jonathan. "This is my good friend, and the latest addition to our militia, Mr Nathan Wickham. Mr Wickham, may I introduce you to Miss Kitty Bennet and Miss Lydia Bennet." He glanced over at the rest of the party, his wide smile barely faltering.

"And I must assume that these are the other Bennet sisters of whom I have heard such good things. They are the most attractive girls in the neighbourhood, Mr Wickham, of that I have been assured and as you can see, the reports of them do not disappoint."

Mr Wickham smiled most charmingly at the group until his eyes fixed upon Vince whereupon his smile turned decidedly cheeky.

"It is a pleasure to meet you all but, my dear Mr Jonathan, I think upon closer inspection you shall find that one of the young ladies you are praising is in fact a young man."

"I... what?"

"He is wearing a hat, you will see, whereas the other ladies are adorned in bonnets. I think that was a clue."

Mr Jonathan looked so mortified that Vince couldn't help but smile. Lydia and Kitty were already giggling fit to burst but assured their friend that their brother would not be offended by the mistake.

"No, indeed," Vince remarked drily. "It has been happening with startling regularity of late."

In response Mr Wickham leaned in close, rather closer than Vince thought was considered polite, and spoke in a low voice.

"I can understand it, I will admit. For I have met few men so fair and attractive in all my years. But never fear, anyone with eyes can see that you are a man, in all the ways that are important."

Leaning back to survey the effect his words had had on the younger man, Mr Wickham turned and kissed the hand of each sister as he learnt their names, returning lastly to Vince, whose hand he shook with vigor.

"Your name, my friend?"

"Vince Bennet."

"And I am, as you are aware, Nathan Wickham. It is a pleasure to meet you all."

His eyes lingered a little too long for Vince's comfort, even if he was an attractive and agreeable man, and he was pleased to see that Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy were making their way toward them on foot. Bingley was the principle instigator of their conversation and admitted that they had been on their way to the Bennet's house in order to enquire about Miss Jane Bennet's health and to invite them to the long awaited ball at his residence that coming Friday. Mr Darcy corroborated it with a bow, shook hands cordially with Vince, and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes upon him, when they were suddenly arrested on the sight of the stranger, Mr Wickham. Vince watched as, upon seeing each other, their countenance changed, and was quite astonished. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Mr Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat - a salutation which Howard just deigned to return. What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know. and Vince bit his lip as his curiosity mounted.

In another minute, Mr Bingley, having made arrangement to visit upon Jane at a later date, took his leave and Howard, with a glance in Vince's direction, followed him. Vince was so taken by the behaviour, which was odd, even by Howard's standards, that he did not notice that the group was now moving and had in fact arrived at their aunt and uncle's shop. The young officers were making their apologies, obviously reluctant to enter the haberdashers, and Mr Jonathan turned to Vince with a look of pity.

"It must be awfully tedious for you, Mr Bennet, to have to accompany your sisters on such errands."

"I expect not," Mr Wickham interrupted. "I expect a young man such as Vince Bennet can find great distraction in such a situation."

"I do not find such errands tedious," Vince agreed, not sure what to make of Mr Wickham's attentions. They made their goodbyes and Vince was drawn out of his musings by a groan from Jane which indicated the return of Charlotte and Mr Collins to their party.


	18. Chapter 18

**Not much happens happens in this chapter. The next will be more exciting. There's another ball coming up soon...**

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Over the next handful of days Vince found his time occupied in visits to the town, keeping his sisters from embarrassing themselves too horridly among the officers, preparations for the coming ball and ensuring that Mr Collins spent no time alone with Mary. Mr Jonathan and Mr Wickham became regular acquaintances and it was agreed that Mr Wickham was a man of great charm and wit and Mrs Bennet began to imagine that he would make a fine addition to their family circle with which ever daughter he chose to marry.

One fine afternoon Mr Jonathan and Mr Wickham chose to walk home with them from town and Vince found himself walking solely in the company of Wickham, the others having walked on ahead while Vince was admiring the flight of a swallow.

"Are you often distracted by birds, Mr Bennet?"

"You mock me, Mr Wickham, but I do indeed find great delight in watching the flight of birds. They are so free, and they make such beautiful music."

"I hear you are quite musically proficient yourself, Mr Bennet."

"And from who did you hear such a thing?" Vince answered, enjoying the banter. "Have my sisters been telling stories again?"

"I have heard it about the town," Wickham smiled, "that your sisters sing sweetly but that you play so well that even the dark and dreary Mr Darcy enjoyed a gathering once you agreed to sit down at the instrument."

"I think you must be mocking me now, Mr Wickham," Vince tried to make his voice light. "Are you an acquaintance of How- Mr Darcy's then?"

"I suppose we are, after a fashion. How long has the gentleman been in the neighbourhood?"

"I would put it at six and a half weeks," Vince replied.

"Six and a half? That is quite an exact number," Wickham smiled slyly.

"I should say not," Vince answered just a little too quickly. "It may be six, it may be seven. I did not know which, so I settled upon six and half." Mr Wickham was grinning far too knowingly for his liking now and Vince determined to change the subject.

"I understand he is a man of very large property in Yorkshire?"

"Yes," replied Wickham; "his estate, Pemberley, is noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on him than myself. For I have been connected quite intimately with his family since my youth."

Vince could not but look surprised.

"You may well be surprised, Bennet, at such an assertion, after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted then, with Howard Darcy?"

"As much as I should probably ever be," Vince replied, trying to seem carefree. "I have spent four days in the same house with him."

"And do you not find him very disagreeable?"

There was something in Wickham's eye that gave Vince a moment's pause. He felt that to say something in defense of Howard would be somehow to give Wickham power over him so instead he smiled brightly and agreed.

"Does not everyone find him disagreeable, Mr Wickham?"

The other man laughed.

"It would seem so. I, however, should not give my own opinion of him. I have known him too well to be a fair judge."

The insinuation of Wickham's words was beginning to irk Vince and he was pleased that the man's laughter had attracted Lydia's attention.

"What could my brother possibly say to cause you to laugh so?" she asked, skipping toward them gaily.

"We were speaking of the ill-tempered Mr Darcy," Wickham told her, with great animation. "For I wondered whether he might soon leave the country, and then we might have some pleasant weather."

Lydia laughed and clapped her hands.

"I hope you shall not be frightened off by him."

"Never, sweet lady. It is not for me to be driven away by Mr Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on friendly terms but it shall not prevent me from attending the ball come Friday, rest assured of that. His behaviour toward me was scandalous but I shall rise above it, never fear."

Vince found himself intrigued but Wickham began to engage Lydia in talk of a more general nature. What was it that had been between Howard and Mr Wickham? Wickham certainly spoke of it as if it had been something of great scandal, hinting but never giving firm details. Could it be, possibly that the men had once been something special to one another? Had they once been, he blushed to think it, lovers?

If so, what had led to their parting, to their hostility toward one another? Had they been exposed? Surely not, for Mr Darcy was regarded as a man on high morals and such a story as Wickham hinted at would certainly have followed him wherever he went if it had been made public. It was a mystery and Vince found that it sat very ill with him. The thought that Howard had had other 'friends' before him made his stomach clench in a most unpleasant manner. Howard had said to Miss Bingley while in Vince's company that the blue eyes that he found so pleasing, and the one who owned them, belonged to Howard, which meant that Vince could consider himself Howard's did it not? And surely by extension, Howard belonged to Vince? Even if they had not had the opportunity to say so plainly? He did not like the suggestion that Howard had once belonged to anyone else. Especially someone as handsome and generally agreeable as Mr Wickham. Vince did not think he could compete against such a man, who was older, more worldly, and generally better liked than himself. He began to look forward to the coming dance with more urgency so that might have an excuse to talk to Howard.

Mr Bingley called upon Jane on the Thursday but Howard did not accompany him, and for the sake of propriety Vince was expected to stay in the room with them. He hid himself behind his sewing after the opening pleasantries and left the two lovers to themselves as best as he could.

"You do not have to hide yourself in the corner so, Vince?" Christopher called.

"I do not wish to intrude," Vince replied. "You must have grown weary of my company when Jane was ill. I thought it best to let you spend some time in her much more pleasing company."

"Vince is finishing a jacket to wear to your ball, Mr Bingley," Jane said softly.

"Is he indeed. So the mysterious tailor is you after all, Vince? How remarkable." Vince blushed. He seemed to be doing an awful lot of it of late.

"My sister is a far more accomplished dressmaker than I," he said. "You can see how elegantly her dress sits upon her form."

"Yes," Bingley said wistfully and Vince saw with delight that Jane was now the sole object of his interest once more. Perhaps the two were finally becoming aware of the depth of each others affections. Vince certainly hoped so.


	19. Chapter 19

**Another ball! The next couple of chapters were really fun to write, even if the boys decided to take the story into their own hands. I don't think Vince has even read Pride and Prejudice but Howard should know better.**

**Hope you enjoy it. Ta-Ra.**

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The prospect of Mr Bingley's ball was extremely agreeable to every member of the family and when the Friday finally arrived there was much activity in the house, to the extent that Mr Collins took to hiding in his room, which in turn made for a much more cheerful Mary who even agreed to let Vince choose her gown for her. Lydia announced that she would surely spend the greater half of the evening dancing with Mr Wickham, and Kitty asserted that surely she would dance the other half with him. Jane quietly imagined spending the evening in the company of Mr Bingley and Mrs Bennet made Vince promise that he would allow his sisters to get along with any gentlemen they chose without his interference and to dance with Miss Bingley if he could, for she felt sure that the lady could be easily wooed by him if he would only make an effort.

"If you continue to spend such an amount of time with Mr Darcy, my dear," she told him as she worked a hot curling iron through Jane's hair, "You shall find yourself becoming a man after his fashion." Vince gaped but his mother continued unaware. "He has already seemed to have made you into a more grumpish and scowling young man. It is not a friendship I would encourage for you at all. Jane dear, stop shaking your shoulders so, it will ruin your hair. What ever is amusing my dear? Jane?"

Vince turned away to attend to his own hair. His spirits were too high at the prospect of the ball to let his mother's words truly upset him. His suit in the rose satin was finally complete and he was sure he would be the best dressed man in the room. If Christopher Bingley complimented him to the point he would know it for certain, and if he could not draw Howard's attention in his direction with such an outfit, the man was surely blind.

As they entered the carriages - they had needed to engage both their own and Mr Collins's carriage to carry them all to the ball - Vince enquired whether Mr Collins himself intended to join the dancing.

"Oh, yes, cousin," said he, "I am by no means of opinion, I assure you, that a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character to respectable people, can have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening, yourself excepted of course."

"Why thank you, Mr Collins."

"Yes..." Mr Collins seemed not to understand the concept of sarcasm and, being unable to think how to reply to Vince, turned toward Mary.

"I thought that I might take this opportunity of soliciting you now, Miss Mary, for the first two dances especially, a preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right cause, and not to any disrespect for her, though she is the elder?"

"Um," Mary replied, which Mr Collins seemed to take as willing agreement and Vince put forth, since his mother was riding in the other carriage, that if Mr Collins intended to have Mary's first dance, then perhaps he would let Vince have his sister's second. It was all he could do but Mary's silent thanks told him that it was enough.

It was not until Lydia came to him almost in tears, ten minutes after their arrival at the ball that Vince realised that he had not seen Wickham among the officers in attendance.

"It is surely that Mr Darcy's doing," she sobbed. "There is some old quarrel between them and he has convinced Mr Bingley to refrain from inviting him, I am sure."

"I do not think Howard would be so forward in his treatment of anyone, no matter what was between them, Lydia. There must be an explanation for your friend's absence, we must simply seek it out."

Lydia was not pleased to be put off from her anger at Mr Darcy but soon found something more interesting to take her attention.

"You called him Howard."

"I don't believe I did."  
"You did, I heard you."

Vince felt himself starting to panic. Of all his sisters Lydia was the least discrete and even though he dared guess she would not discover the truth of the matter that would not stop her from teasing him mercilessly. She still found her joke about offering Vince to Mr Darcy because he was not fit to marry a woman to be one of the funniest of the year and Vince found it tiresome, and not only because he wished it could be true.

"Why would I have cause to call him Howard, Lydia?"

"I am sure that is for you to tell me, brother."

Vince huffed.

"Shall we seek out Mr Jonathan? Of everyone here he is the most likely to know what has become of your dearest Wickham."

"Oh, that is a fine point, Vince, thank you!" she gushed, her interrogation forgotten as she began to drag Vince through the assembly. They had not gone so far as finding Mr Jonathan when they were hailed quite unexpectedly.

"Miss Bennet, Mr Bennet, how do you do? You both look very charming this evening."

"Howard?"

Vince was taken so much by surprise that Howard would address them with such ease in public that he quite forgot himself and the triumph in Lydia's eyes told him that he would pay for it later.

"Sorry, excuse me, Mr Darcy, how do you do? Thank you kindly for the compliment to my sister. It is a charming evening and we seek only to fit with our surroundings. Um..."

He was struck with fear that people were looking at them, and he could see that Howard was beginning to regret addressing him.

"We are looking for someone, actually, Mr Darcy," Lydia said, stepping forwards.

"Ah, well, do not let me keep you-"

"In fact you may be able to help us, Mr Darcy," Lydia spoke over him. "We are looking for a very dear friend of ours. A Mr Nathan Wickham. He has recently joined the militia here and gave us his promise that he would be in attendance tonight."

"Did he indeed?"

"He did. I do hope no one has prevented his coming."

Vince could see the anger building behind Howard's impassive gaze. He wanted to drag Lydia outside by her hair and give her the talking to of her life but knew that such an action would probably come across as unseemly.

"Are you very much acquainted with Mr Wickham?"

"Oh, very well acquainted," Lydia smiled impishly. "He and my dear brother here have become fast friends, talking and laughing together, exchanging secrets and whatever else it is young men do when in each others company. And our mother approved wholeheartedly with his dancing with my sisters and I tonight, but, sadly, it seems he has been kept from us."

Howard was paying no attention to Lydia anymore; he was staring solely at Vince, and Vince did not like what he saw in his friend's eyes. When Lydia finally stopped to draw breath Howard took his turn to speak, his words clipped and his tone decidedly unfriendly. His eyes never left Vince's even though his words were addressed elsewhere.

"I must admit that I expected little better from your mother, Miss Bennet, or from yourself. But I had hoped your brother would consider rather more of himself than to engage in such a base friendship as Mr Wickham is liable to offer. I was mistaken it seems. Goodnight."

Vince was not sure who's hair he wanted to pull at this juncture, only that he felt his temper would be greatly improved by the action and so settled with tugging on a lock of his own. Howard caught the action as he looked up from his bow, saw the pain in Vince's eyes, but turned away resolutely and quickly engaged Miss Bingley in conversation at the other end of the room. Vince watched them for a moment or two, his vision slightly blurred with unwanted tears, before turning and walking stiffly out of the room, not caring that Lydia was now on her own in her search for Mr Jonathan.

He walked all the way out of the house and out into the darkness, trying to clear his head and draw a deep breath but found he could hardly do so. He had only wanted to find Howard and speak to him privately, to try and sort out what was between he and Wickham so that he could figure out his own standing. He thought that Howard had perhaps jumped to some unnecessary conclusions but he couldn't forget how guilty Howard had looked for a moment when Lydia mentioned secrets, and how quickly his guilt - or was it shame - had turned to anger. Was he ashamed of Vince, and his feelings for him? Was that what this was all about? Or was he ashamed of Vince discovering a previous affair? Did he believe somehow that Vince and Wickham were... involved?

Vince felt sick. There were too many possibilities by far, too many unknowns and he had no apparent way of setting them straight. He could not ask Howard, not when the man had insulted his mother, sister and self. It was humiliating to be treated so, and unjust.

He turned slowly to face the house once again and drew a steadying breath. He had promised a dance to Mary and another to Charlotte, there was no other choice but to return to the ball but he did so with a heavy heart and even Christopher's compliments of his suit did not shake him from his ill humour.


	20. Chapter 20

**The rest of the Ball Scene, but this bit is definitely not in the book. Naughty Boosh boys.**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing. I hope you like this chapter, it's my favourite so far.**

**Disclaimer: This bit belongs to me in my mindspace, but that's about it really.**

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When the first dances were over Vince found himself a quite corner to hide in, hoping that he would not soon be found. He normally loved to dance but tonight his feet felt heavy and ungraceful and he had no wish to make a fool of himself by tripping over his own boots. Mr Collins was doing that enough to satisfy the entire assembly.

He stood against the wall, half in shadow, hidden by a large statue, and began to tug on his hair again, twirling and twisting it fiercely between his fingers.

"You should take more care, Mr Bennet, else you pull too hard and end up as bald as Sir William over there."

Vince stiffened as Howard came to stand beside him. They weren't stood close enough to be touching but close enough that Howard was also afforded a hiding place by the statue. Vince refused to let himself be drawn in to conversation. He did not wish to talk to Howard, though he would happily listen to an apology.

They stood sometime without speaking a word and Vince began to imagine that their silence would last the whole night, and at first was pleased not to break it; he was still angry at Howard after all. But, if Vince chose to be honest with himself, he had no particular talent for keeping silent and thought that conversation might be a better punishment for Mr Howard Darcy.

"I have not seen you dance, Mr Darcy, but I have seen you watching me as I did so," Vince said as acidly as he was able. "Does this mean that you are wanting lessons?"

After a pause of some minutes, he addressed Howard a second time.

"It is your turn to say something now, Mr Darcy. I talked about dancing, now you ought to make a remark on the size of the room or the number of couples."

Howard only nodded, his eyes on his boots, and Vince felt his anger rising once more.

"You do not wish to speak, Mr Darcy? Very well. Perhaps you said all you felt you needed to earlier in the evening."

"I do not like the way you say my name, Vince" Howard finally replied in a low tone.

"That is a shame, Mr Darcy, that my speaking your name should offend you."

"You sound rather too much like _her_ when you say it so." Vince followed the other man's glance toward Miss Bingley as she stood scornfully among women she viewed as her social inferiors.

"How or what I call you should not be a concern of yours, Mr Darcy, for I am quite obviously too base a man to be worthy of your time or conversation. And if there is something wrong with my manner, _Mr Darcy_, I am sure you shall find it no inconvenience to lay the blame on my mother and family."

There was silence for another several minutes until Vince did indeed tug too hard on his hair and let out a small yelp of pain when a few strands came away in his hand. Howard looked up, concerned but turned away again when Vince tried to catch his eye.

"Do you always speak so much and so passionately?" he asked eventually.

"Sometimes." VInce replied. "One must speak occasionally, you know. But it is equally important to listen. Do you always insult your friends so viciously in public?"

Howard turned a shade of pink which Vince found endearing in despite of himself.

"And do you always take the words of a vapid sixteen-year-old girl as truth? And fail to think to ask the person being talked about if the report is in any way accurate?"

At length Howard spoke, in a constrained voice.

"Her words confirmed what I had heard from others, that you had been seen a great deal in the company of Wickham, that you are indeed friends. I am afraid it is something I cannot abide and must warn you against."

"I do not know what the trouble is between you and Mr Wickham, if that is what troubles you, Mr Darcy." Vince tried to make his voice sound reasonable, even as he felt his body shake. "I know only that he had the great misfortune to lose your friendship, and in a manner that it seems he is likely to suffer from all his life."

Howard made no answer for some time and Vince resisted the urge within himself to stamp on the other man's foot in order to get his attention.

"There is nothing between the two of you?"

Vince blinked, unprepared for the vulnerability he heard in Howard's voice.

"No. I have not even given him leave to call me by my Christened name, Mr Darcy." He smiled as he said it, and was relieved when Howard smiled in return.

"But I have given you permission to use mine, Vince."

"So you have, Howard."

Vince became suddenly aware that the space between their bodies had entirely evaporated and their shoulders were touching through the fabric of their coats.

"I beg you to be wary of Mr Wickham, Vince?"

"But why, what is between you?"

"Nothing but disenchanted memories on my part and bitterness on his."

"Why can you not tell me?"

Howard turned his face away, appearing to watch the other couples and groups as they spoke and laughed in the main part of the room.

"I cannot do this to you, Vince," he whispered. "Find a wife and be happy, for both our sakes."

"You cannot ask that of me," Vince replied, confused and hurt for what seemed the hundredth time that evening.

"This is a dangerous path you begin to tread, Vince, it is improper to even speak to you like this."

"Very well," Vince said, pushing himself away from the wall. "Then we shall remove ourselves. Come."

He walked away from the statue and, when he had been seen by a few of the assembly, spoke just loud enough to be heard by those closest.

"You claim, Mr Darcy, that Venus can be seen at this time of the year and at this time of the evening but I cannot take your word on it, sir. It is too improbable."

He stood there in his fine suit, his grin inviting Howard to join the game.

"Your impudence, Mr Bennet never fails to surprise me." This was met with a few chuckles from the room.

"I shall not take your word until I have seen it with my own eyes, Mr Darcy. You cannot expect to take me for a fool."

"Very well then, Mr Bennet, I shall show you forthwith."

Vince watched as Howard strode from the room and followed him, smiling brightly at those he passed. The town gossips were already talking of the strange friendship between Mr Darcy and Vince Bennet, this would but give them one more oddity to puzzle upon.

When they finally reached the cool evening air Howard turned to Vince and fixed him with a stare so intense that Vince actually felt his knees begin to wobble.

"We will be able to see the stars better from the other end of the garden, I believe."

Vince nodded and followed him into the dark.

As they rounded the side of the house he felt a large, warm hand slip into his and Vince felt a thrill of possibility. They made haste through the shadowed garden until they reached a stand of trees and Howard, panting, pulled Vince behind the first and pressed his back against it.

Vince's pulse began to race at the feel of Howard's body flush against his own and he tried, and failed, to form a single coherent thought. He gave up even the attempt when, without hesitation, Howard pressed his lips to Vince's. He instinctively leaned into the kiss, his whole being rejoicing in the feeling of the other man's mouth pressed against his. The gentle scratch of Howard's moustache against his upper lip made him shiver and it was with the greatest reluctance that he allowed Howard to pull back in order to take a gasping breath. He did not move far, resting their foreheads together and his hands against the younger man's cheeks.

As they drew breath from each other Vince began to feel as he had done when, as a boy, he had stolen some of his father's brandy. He felt light headed and faint but also flushed and unbalanced in his body. The aftereffects of his father's brandy had made him never want to partake of alcohol again, but this, this Vince knew he needed to do again and again, as often as possible, and always with Howard.

"You do see now, don't you, Vince?" Howard whispered raggedly despite their isolated location.

"You see now that this is wrong, that we cannot go on, that I cannot pull you into this? You see now the danger, don't you, Vince?"

Vince looked up. He noted how the man's hair hung in unruly curls about his face. He saw how his body was beautiful despite the tension that was so visible in the slope of his shoulders. He saw the desperate need in the brown eyes. The need to love and yet the need to keep himself safe from hurt. He brought his own hands up from where they had been digging into the tree bark and placed them gently on either side of Howard's face, tracing his features delicately with his thumb.

"I only see you, Howard."

The passion in the kiss Howard gave him then was enough to make Vince sag against the tree and he knew that if Howard had not been pressed against him he would surely have fallen. The slight moan that escaped his lips only seemed to increase Howard's fervor and they let themselves be carried away on the fierce tide of emotion, only drawing their lips apart when the sound of the guests departing from the ball reached their ears.

"I do not want to go, Howard," Vince sighed. "Not now that I have found you."

"Your sisters will come searching and discover you if you do not go."

"Very true."

"You must go, Vince. We should not be seen returning together."

"I know."

"You're still here."

"Promise me that I shall hear from you soon?"

"Vince-"

"Please?"

Howard gave his reply in the form of one final kiss and when it ended Vince reluctantly walked back toward the house and the carriage that was already awaiting him. He was thankful for the darkness of the carriage and the sleepiness of his relatives on the journey home for when he glanced in his mirror before climbing into bed he noted firstly that there was a look in his eyes that he did not recognise and would be hard pressed to explain, and secondly that Howard's moustache had turned the skin above his top lip a rather unflattering shade of pink. He dabbed at it with a little cold cream before allowing himself to drift off to sleep, hoping that it would have faded by the morning and that they dizzy and excited feeling he had begun to experience at Howard's touch would not have.


	21. Chapter 21

**Thanks to all who reviewed! Glad you liked the ball scene and the resulting snog in the garden. **

**Disclaimer: As ever, I don't own the Mighty Boosh, or Pride and Prejudice. I just play with them in the night times.**

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The day after the ball opened a new scene at the Bennet residence. Mr Collins made his declaration in form. Having resolved to do it without loss of time, as his leave of absence extended only to the coming Monday, he set about it in a very orderly manner, with all the observances which he supposed a regular part of the business. He came upon Mrs Bennet, Vince and Mary soon after breakfast and patiently waited for Mrs Bennet to finish speaking.

"...And what have you done to your lip?"

"I had a slight accident shaving?"

"You had a... since when do you shave, Vince? Why was I not informed?"

"I am twenty, Mother. Father taught me to shave some years ago, we did not think it that noteworthy an occasion."

"If you learnt so many years ago, why have you managed to graze yourself this morning?"

"I was tired from last night and did not prepare my razor properly. Is this truly what you wished to speak to me about?"

Mrs Bennet glared at Vince's nervous face and slightly pink lip and Mr Collins, who had been about to speak, suddenly thought better of it and remained silent.

"No, of course, dear, I wished to thank you for leaving your sisters' suitors alone last night and to rebuke you for failing once again to dance with Miss Bingley. I heard from Lady Lucas that you were overheard discussing planets with Mr Darcy and then disappeared to go stargazing. Stargazing! My word, Vince, you shall become your father if you keep up at this pace. I heard a dozen compliments on your attire and yet you did not dance with even half of the ladies in attendance and the ones you did take hands with were your either sisters or Miss Lucas."

"I was not in the spirit for dancing and I enjoyed the company of Mr Darcy, he is an interesting man and I feel privileged that he deigns to call me friend."

"Oh, Vince!"

Here Mr Collins found his moment to enter the conversation.

"He is indeed a true man of action, and of great learning. I discovered only last night that he is the nephew of Lady Catherine and has been betrothed to her daughter since childhood. You should be proud that your son has made a friend of a standing so much higher than his own."

Vince glared with such venom that Mr Collins jumped ever so slightly, but he managed to remain silent despite the new turmoil suddenly spinning within his mind.

"Mr Collins, I did not see you there," Mrs Bennet exclaimed, seeming to be thoroughly mollified by the idea that Mr Darcy could elevate her son's status. "How might we help you?"

"Well, may I hope, Madam, for your interest with your fair daughter Mary, when I solicit for the honour of a private audience with her in the course of this morning?"

"No!" Vince could not stop the word from escaping his mouth but his mother was choosing to ignore him.

"Oh dear, why, yes! Certainly, I am sure Mary will be very happy! She can have no objections. Come, Vince, I want you upstairs."

"What? No!"

"Oh, would you prefer we continue our discussion on the state of your lip?"

Vince felt his cheeks turn a pink to match his upper lip but turned to his sister, refusing to let her meet such an unwanted fate as was surely waiting for her if she were left alone in a room with a determined Mr Collins.

"Dear Mother, I beg you," Mary beseeched. "do not force my brother to depart. Mr Collins must excuse me. I simply find the prospect of being so alone without a chaperone not quite proper. You can have nothing to say to me that any body need not hear."

"No, no, nonsense, Mary. I am in great need of Vince's assistance upstairs. I need his height, to reach a hat box from the top shelf."

At Mrs Bennet's statement all eyes had no choice but to look up and down Vince's slight stature. Mrs Bennet was not a petit woman and Vince was barely two inches taller than her, dressed casually as he was without his boots. Even Mrs Bennet noticed the fact and, upon sighting her son's unshod feet, her eyes widened until Vince quietly wondered if they might topple from her head.

"Downstairs, in the sight of your cousin and anyone who might come to visit, in nothing but your stockings! Upstairs right now, Vince! Mary, I insist upon your staying and hearing Mr Collins."

Vince could not stand against such an injunction, and neither could Mary, and within a moment Vince found himself poked and prodded up the stairs and into his room with the strictest instructions not to emerge until he had thoroughly cleaned every one of his boots and picked a pair that best suited his waistcoat.

Downstairs, Mary had been led into the empty breakfast room, where she quickly positioned the table between herself and her amorous cousin.

"Believe me, my dear Miss Mary, that your modesty, so far from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You would have been less amiable in my eyes had there not been this little unwillingness; but allow me to assure you that I have your respected mother's permission for this address. You can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken."

Mary glanced down and had to stifle a giggle as she saw the fine speech written out in a smudged scrawl on a small piece of paper in Mr Collins's hand.

"Almost as soon as I entered the house I singled you out as the companion of my future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it will be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying."

The idea of Mr Collins, with all his solemn composure, and ridiculous mustache, being run away with by his feelings, made Mary so very near laughing that she could not use the short pause he allowed in any attempt to stop him farther, and he continued.

"My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example of matrimony in his parish. Secondly, that I am convinced it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly, which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness. I can see that you are a young lady of strong morals, good learning, and fair visage and can see no impediment to our union."

It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now.

"You are too hasty, sir," she cried. "You forget that I have made no answer. Let me do it without further loss of time. Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me, I am very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than decline them."

"I am not now to learn," replied Mr Collins, with a formal wave of the hand, "that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the alter ere long."

"Upon my word," Mary cried. "Your hope is rather an extraordinary one after my declaration. I assure I am not one of those young ladies. I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make me happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who would make you so. I am very ill qualified for the position as wife, for anyone, please."

She began to edge around the table and back toward the door and would have made her hasty exit if Mr Collins had not continued to address her.

"When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on this subject I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application, and perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female character."

"I assure you, I will reject every application from every man, Mr Collins. I am not meaning to be cruel to your person, I am simply asserting that I shall never give my assent to any proposal of this kind."

"You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses is merely words of course."

"No, Mr Collins, you misunderstand me completely. I am telling you that I am resolved never to marry!" Mary cried, her hand finding the handle of the door.

"You are uniformly charming," cried he, with an air of awkward gallantry; "and I am persuaded that when sanctioned by the express authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of being acceptable."

To such perseverance in willful self-deception, Mary would make no reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew; determined that if he persisted, to fall on the mercy of her father, whose refusal at least could not be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant female. For now she fled to the safety of her room and her siblings.

Mrs Bennet, who had been crouched at the other door during this distressing interview, now hurried instantly to her husband, and called out as she entered the study,

"Oh! Mr Bennet, you are wanted immediately, we are all in an uproar. You must come and make Mary marry Mr Collins, for she vows she will not have him, and if you do not make haste he will change his mind and not have her!"

Mr Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and fixed them on her face with a calm unconcern.

"I have not the pleasure of understanding you," he said when she was quite finished. "Of what are you talking?"  
"Of Mr Collins and Mary. Mary declares she will not have Mr Collins. Indeed she says she will not have any man!"

"And what am I to do on this occasion? It seems a hopeless case."

"Speak to Mary about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon her marrying him."

"Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion."

Mrs Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Mary was summoned to the study.

She was shaking when the maid informed her that she was wanted by both her father and mother and Vince, despite knowing the anger it would illicit from his mother, took Mary's hand and accompanied her and refused to budge even under his mother's stare.

"Come here, child," cried her father when they appeared and Mary removed her hand from Vince's with reluctance. "I have sent for you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr Collins has made an offer of marriage. Is it true?" Mary nodded that it was. "Very well. And this offer of marriage you have refused?"

"I have, sir."

"Well, we now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your accepting it. Is not it so, Mrs Bennet?"

"Yes, or I will never see her again."

Mr Bennet sighed.

"An unhappy alternative is before you, Mary. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr Collins, and I will never see you again if you do."

Vince could not but do a small jump for joy at such a conclusion to such a beginning and he could see the amazed smile stretch across his sister's face. But Mrs Bennet, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded the affair as she wished, was excessively disappointed.

"What do you mean, Mr Bennet, by talking in this way? You promised me to insist upon her marrying him."

"My dear, I did not," replied her husband. "But I do have to insist on a promise from my son."

He turned gravely to face Vince, who stood as tall as he was able, glad now that he was dressed properly. Whatever it was his father would ask, he wanted him to be proud and know that he could take his son at his word.

"Your sister, Vince, has resolved never to marry, or so is my understanding and, from what I have seen of your behaviour together, you are determined to protect her from all her unwanted suitors. Correct?"

"Yes, Father."

"Then you must know that she is now your responsibility. She will of course be provided for while I live and will receive her share of inheritance when I go and be welcome in this house and loved by all under it's roof." Here he looked pointedly at his wife. "But if you are both resolute in her decision to remain single she shall be in your care when Mrs Bennet and I are gone. I trust you will take this responsibility with the seriousness that it deserves?"

"Of course, Father," Vince replied, thrusting his shoulders back. "It is an honour to do so."

"Good, then that is settled. I have but one final request. That my study is now vacated and that I be allowed to read in peace until called for lunch."

Mary and Vince made their exits quickly and left their mother to fluster ineffectually until she was ordered out in no uncertain terms.

Mr Collins, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on what had passed. He thought too well of himself to comprehend on what motive his cousin could refuse him; and although his pride was hurt, he consoled himself that the young woman seemed opposed to marriage in principle and not him in particular, and so he suffered in no other respect. His regard for her was quite imaginary and the possibility of her deserving her mother's reproaches, which he heard from the study with ease, prevented his feeling any regret.

While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came to spend the day with her friends. She was met by Lydia, who, flying to her in high excitement, cried in a half whisper,

"I am so glad you are come, for there is such fun here! What do you think has happened this morning? Mr Collins made an offer to Mary, and she will not have him, and has sworn never to marry, and Father has agreed to let her!"

Charlotte had hardly time to answer before they were joined by Kitty, who came to tell the same news with further embellishments, and no sooner had they entered the sitting room, where Mrs Bennet sat alone, than she likewise began on the subject, calling on Miss Lucas for her compassion, and entreating her to persuade her friend Mary to comply with the wishes of her family.

"Pray do, my dear Miss Lucas," she added in a melancholy tone, "for nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me, I am cruelly used, nobody feels for my poor nerves."

Charlotte's reply was spared by the entrance of Mary, Jane and Vince.

"Aye, here they come," continued Mrs Bennet, "the conspirators! Looking as unconcerned as may be, and not caring a thing for me. But I tell you, Mary, if you think you shall be well provided for by Vince you are very much mistaken. He shall squander his income on soft fabrics, mark my words, and when he takes his own wife, I find it highly unlikely that she will be well pleased by the presence of a spinster sister." She sniffed loudly and turned her attention to Jane.

"I hope you will not be so turned by your sister's strange fancy, Jane. Do not think this is to be a revolution against the happy state of marriage. The town is already brimming with gossip about this poor family, never mind the scandal this shall cause. Oh, my nerves!"

Her children listened in silence to this effusion, sensible that any attempt to reason with or soothe her would only increase the irritation. She talked on and on without interruption from any of them until they were joined, quite unexpectedly by Mr Collins, who entered with a more stately air than usual, and seated himself between Charlotte and Mrs Bennet and as far away as he could from Mary.

The silence of the room was quite intolerable, even Lydia and Kitty seemed put out by it and stayed quiet and still. Vince tried to catch Charlotte's eye, to commiserate with her on being sat so close to the man, but her brow was furrowed in thought and when she finally spoke, her words were quite unexpected.

"If it is not impertinent for me to do so, Mr Collins, I came to enquire at to whether you might be free to take luncheon with my family today. My mother has set far too many potatoes to roast and my father wishes to hear more of the Lady Catherine, who, I believe, he had the great honour to meet once as a younger man. If such an outing would not greatly inconvenience Mr and Mrs Bennet."

Mr Collins heartily agreed, being only to happy to discuss his patroness and to escape his current location, and within ten minutes they had set off together on foot for the Lucas estate. Lydia and Kitty made their own plans to go into town known and Vince quickly decided that the exercise and distance from their mother would be beneficial to them all.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 21 was a bit of a monster and this one is small to even things out.**

**Thanks for reading.**

* * *

"Mr Wickham!" Lydia cried so loudly that Vince, who had been deep in thought about the pros and cons of wearing lace at one's wrists, jumped and stumbled a little. Mr Wickham, who had indeed approached their party and was now quite close, was immediately at his side, steadying him, and Vince blushed deeply, pulling away as politely as he could.

"I do beg your pardon, I am quite alright," he stammered. "My sister's enthusiasm caught me off guard."

WIckham smiled at him in a way that left Vince feeling decidedly uncomfortable but he was soon relieved of the man's company as Lydia and Kitty insisted on claiming his arms and pestering him with questions about his absence the night before.

"I fear I kept myself away," he told them in a consoling and yet conspiratorial tone loud enough for the entire group to hear.

"I found, as the time drew near, that I had better not meet Mr Darcy; that to be in the same room, the same party with him for so many hours together, might be more than I could bear, and that scenes might arise unpleasant to more than myself."

"Oh, my poor Mr Wickham," Kitty simpered. "Though I quite understand your unwillingness to be in the man's company. I do not believe I have ever seen the man smile."

"Vince has," Lydia giggled. "He is quite capable of making _Howard_ smile, and conversed with him the entire night, even though the man began the evening by insulting me and our mother."

"Lydia!" Vince spoke more harshly than he had meant, but could not control the emotions that held him at the unfair words of his sisters. "You do yourself and Mr Darcy great disservice to speak so. If you cannot control yourself you shall restrict your conversation to the weather or else not speak at all."

"You are not our father, Vince," she replied tartly. "You will have dominion over Mary, but not over me."

With that she turned her attention back to Wickham, who smiled broadly at her and began to relate to her that he had once been in the employ of Mr Darcy's father, had been more beloved of the man than his own son and that Mr Darcy had been so jealous that he had been sure the man would actually turn an unattractive shade of green.

"His father had promised me the parish on his estate but alas, after his death my relationship with Mr Darcy deteriorated greatly. We had once been friends, as youths, and perhaps he feared that it would not be seemly. More likely it was my popularity against his lack of report with the people of the village, and even his own staff, that led him to dismiss me. He gave me a small sum for my troubles and sent me off, and so here I am, a poor soldier."

"Oh, poor Mr Wickham!" cried Lydia.

"Yes, dear poor Mr Wickham!" Kitty echoed.

Mary tutted and Jane rolled her eyes elegantly, but Vince felt perturbed. He felt a great need to talk to Howard. They had meant to last night and, while he could not regret the activity their lips had been put to instead, he now desperately wished to hear the truth of the matter from his friend. His distrust of Mr Wickham had grown but he needed to know how far that distrust should go. He felt sure that Lydia would not allow his interference in her flirting, but if the man was a danger, Vince wanted to know if he should go to his father with his concerns. He reassured himself that Howard had promised to contact him and that such a man as Mr Howard Darcy would not go back on such a promise. A lovers' promise, he realised with a shiver.

"Are you cold, Vince?" Jane asked him innocently, noting his shiver.

"Not at all," he replied, hearing his voice crack a little. "I am in fact decidedly warm."


	23. Chapter 23

**And then it all went sad...**

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Soon after their return to the house, a letter was delivered to Miss Jane Bennet; it came from Miss Caroline Bingley and was opened immediately. It contained a sheet of elegant, hot-pressed paper, well covered in the lady's flowing hand; as well as a smaller, sealed sheet which Jane passed surreptitiously to Vince. He pocketed it and watched his sister's countenance change as she read, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular passages.

As their mother was not present and Lydia and Kitty were still talking animatedly about Mr Wickham and Mary had already disappeared to the library for a book, there was no one to press Jane on the letter and, after a moment's composure she gestured for Vince to follow her upstairs. When they had gained her room, Jane took out the letter and held it out for Vince to see.

"This is from Caroline Bingley, you know that of course, but what it contains has surprised me a great deal. The whole party have left the estate by this time, and are on their way to London; and without any intention of coming back again. You shall hear what she says."

She read the first sentence aloud, which comprised the information of their having just resolved to follow their brother to town directly, and of their meaning to dine that day with some fine Lord and Lady. The next line said these words:

"I do not pretend to regret any thing I shall leave behind me here, except perhaps your society, which was far more bearable than any other. But we will hope at some future period to enjoy many returns of the delightful intercourse we have known through correspondence, and, if your family's position should ever afford you the pleasure of coming to the city, we shall be happy to make acquaintance with you there."

To all of this Vince listened with great inner turmoil. He resented the insinuation that his family could not afford to send one of their number to London for the season, and that Miss Bingley had found them all so very beneath her notice. Mostly though, he could not reconcile the previous night's enjoyment with the sudden resolution to quit the neighbourhood.

While he had been mostly engaged with his own entertainments and worries that night, he had seen the delightful way Jane and Christopher Bingley had danced together, the joy they had taken in each others company. It seemed out of character for Christopher to leave so abruptly, and to send no message of his own sentiments to Jane.

"She goes on to say that their brother was called away early this morning on some business and that it was resolved that they would all go and have no intention of returning later this winter. It is obvious that they mean never to return."

This explained, at least, why they had not heard from Christopher himself and, Vince recalled, he had heard Howard remark that the man was not much of a letter writer and probably would have sent her no more than a short note if he had.

"It is only obvious that Miss Bingley does not mean they should return. She has not that much power over her brother, I assure you," he told Jane but she remained unconsoled.

"You will hear what she writes next, Vince, and then you shall understand:

Mr Darcy is impatient to see his brother and we are scarcely less eager to meet him again. He also intends to visit his aunt, the Lady Catherine de Bourgh when she comes to Town, and her daughter, a young lady with whom my brother, Mr Bingley, has a close report. My brother admires her greatly already, and he will have frequent opportunities of seeing her on the most intimate footing when he goes with his friend Mr Darcy to visit her. With all these circumstances to favour an attachment and nothing to prevent it, my dearest Jane, I think I can safely tell you that we expect my brother's happiness to be ensured within the next twelve-month."

Jane seemed so very close to tears that Vince reached out and held her, careful not to crush her dress as he did so.

"What think you of this, Vince? Is it not proof that my hopes have been mere delusion?"

"Not at all, sister," he said, his voice catching. "For I learned from Mr Collins that it is Mr Darcy who is expected to marry the daughter of Lady Catherine. They have been betrothed since childhood, I am told. The delusion is entirely on the side of Miss Bingley." And myself, he added silently.

"Oh, Vince!"

"Jane, you ought to believe me, no one who has ever seen you together can doubt Christopher's affection for you. Miss Bingley I am sure cannot, she is not such a simpleton. Her case is this: we are not rich enough, or grand enough for them, and she means to put you off with her untruths and unpleasantness. But, my dearest Jane, you cannot seriously imagine that because Miss Bingley tells you her brother greatly admires another woman, he is in the smallest degree less sensible of your merit than when he took leave of you last night."

"But, Vince," Jane whispered, taking his hand. "What of your own plight?"

Vince gave a short laugh that held no real humour in it.

"My plight was always to be a hopeless one, I fear." He took a steadying breath and smiled at his sister, putting the thoughts aside for the time for the sake of giving his sister some cheer.

"But yours is decidedly more hopeful. We simply need to devise a plan to ensure that you are reunited and I think that our mother will agree to almost anything in pursuit of having at least one of her children respectfully settled."

They talked long and agreed that their mother should only be informed of the family's leaving, and not of the plan on Miss Bingley's part not to return, and thought of various ways to try and keep the thoughts of Jane present in Mr Bingley's mind. By the time they made their way downstairs for the meal Jane was in far pleasanter spirits and talked of the enjoyment she had received at the ball and the hilarity of seeing Mr Collins trip over his boots during even the most simple dances.

Their mother was distressed at the news, naturally but declared that the family would soon return. Mr Bingley could not stay long away from Jane, she was sure.

Mr Collins dined that evening at the Lucas estate and Vince retired early enough that he did not have to face the man. He pitied poor Charlotte for the time she had been forced to spend with the man and hoped it had not depressed her spirits too greatly but most of his attention was taken with the letter still nestled in his pocket.

Climbing into bed that night, he brought the letter forth and, by candle light, unfolded it and beheld the straight and ordered script of his dearest Howard.

"My beloved Vince,

I fear this is not what you hoped to receive when you asked me to send you word last night. Yet this is what must be done. I have come to realise that I cannot put you in such a precarious position. You are a young man of great talent and potential and one in need of a respectful marriage, for yourself and your family's sake. That I cannot offer you.

I feel it is time that I face my own fate. As a small boy I was betrothed to my cousin, at the wishes of my mother and her sister, my aunt, the Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I pray that you and your sisters may find for yourselves suitable and likable partners from among your acquaintances. Do not think of me. Do not mourn me. You were not made to be unhappy in any thing, least of all this. Your life should have been a simple and comfortable one, and I fear that I have come near to destroying that for you.

I apologise, also, for the forwardness of my actions last night. It was beyond improper for me to kiss you. It pains me even to write that I did so. To take your first kiss from you in such a manner was indecent. I am sorry.

Our party shall not be returning to your neighbourhood, I believe. Miss Bingley has designs for her brother which do not include your fine sister, and even if he were to return, I would be unable to accompany him; it would not be safe for either of us to continue our friendship.

My final words to you, dear Vince, are to be careful of the company you keep. Mr Wickham is adept at spinning stories that further his own ends but bear little resemblance to the truth. If he has designs on you or your younger sisters, you must be on your guard.

I shall miss you, though I hope you shall not miss me, it would not be the proper thing to do. Please burn this letter when you have read it. It would only be used as fuel for scandal if it were discovered and I would not wish that upon you.

Your friend,

Mr Howard Darcy."

Vince stared at the words for a long time. He was not a swift reader and his eyes hurt from reading by the dim candle light. They felt dry and he was surprised at the tears which began to cause them to prickle. He folded the letter carefully several times before reaching over to his night stand and taking up his hairbrush. He carefully prized the brush apart, revealing a small space behind the bristles, and deposited the letter within before snapping the brush back together.

He placed the hairbrush back on the nightstand and extinguished the candle but as he lay down in the darkness of his room he found he could not sleep, despite the crushing tiredness that had settled upon his mind. He envied his sisters their shared rooms and the company afforded them by each others' presence. He had no one to relate his tragedy to and knew that he would not be able to tell neither Jane nor Mary or even Charlotte. His only comfort was the first three words of his lover's letter: 'My beloved Vince.' They were a small token, but he would try to ensure they were enough.

Pulling the covers tight and pressing his face into the pillow Vince let the sobs escape his mouth and cried, as quietly as he was able, until he fell into an exhausted sleep just as the sky began to lighten with the dawn.


	24. Chapter 24

**And another short bit before I go for now.**

**Thanks for reading.**

* * *

Vince, in his fitful and tearful sleep, did not witness Mr Bainbridge Collins making haste from the house early the next day, forgoing even his breakfast in an attempt to make his departure before he could be seen by any of his cousins. His plan was, as usual for his character, a simple one. He was to leave for his parish in a few days and had fixed upon another young lady and so he made haste to the Lucas estate to throw himself at the feet of Charlotte Lucas.

He was keen to avoid his cousins, from a conviction that if they saw him depart they would not fail to guess his plan, and he was not willing to have the attempt known until its success could be advertised. For, though feeling almost secure in his success, for Charlotte had been tolerably encouraging, he was comparatively diffident since Mary's outright rejection. His reception, however, was of the most flattering kind. Miss Lucas saw him coming from an upper window as he walked toward the house, and instantly set out to meet him accidentally in the lane. But little had she dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited her there.

In as short a time as Mr Collins's long speeches would allow, everything was settled between them to the satisfaction of both; and as they entered the house, he earnestly entreated her to name the day that was to make him the happiest of men. Charlotte doubted the strength of his assertion but felt no inclination to trifle with his happiness. She had accepted him solely from the disinterested desire for an establishment, and cared not how soon that establishment were gained.

Sir William and Lady Lucas were speedily applied to for their consent, and it was bestowed with a most joyful alacrity. They attended the Sunday Service together and when it came time for Mr Collins to depart their company Charlotte entreated him to say nothing to Bennets that evening, so that she might give the news in person the following day, a task which he agreed to but found a very difficult thing to carry out when faced with the curiosity of Mrs Bennet and her two youngest daughters on the walk home from the church. Mr Bennet was not at all interested, Vince was too tired to be curious and Jane and Mary were deep in conversation on the various faults of the preacher's sermon but Mr Collins still felt himself rather put upon and congratulated himself greatly that he had avoided their questions so well.

As Mr Collins made his departure preparations the next day, Charlotte arrived and it soon became evident to the Bennets that there was an agreement between the two. Mrs Bennet rushed for the stairs and took to her bed, wailing that her nerves would never recover and Lady Lucas would surely never let the matter drop of Mr Collins marrying Charlotte rather than one of her own four daughters.

As they sat in the garden alone a little later and Charlotte explained the whole of the situation to Vince, he could not help his astonishment.

"Engaged to Mr Collins! My dear Charlotte, it is impossible!"

"Most people in our acquaintance would say that seeing Vince Bennet with a tired face, mismatched attire and a scowl is an impossibility and yet Vince, I am bearing witness to such a sight right now. Perhaps when you are feeling more yourself you will be able to offer me the congratulations that you should."

"Congratulations? Why are you doing this, Charlotte?"

"For a comfortable home, security, the opportunity to be a mother and run my own household. We do not all want to live and die as spinsters like Mary, you know."

"But the man is a pompous ass!" Vince cried, and received an eye roll from his friend.

"He may not be all that one could wish, certainly, but he is sufficient."

"But his dancing! And that mustache!"

"Actually, I quite like the mustache."

"Charlotte!"

"You cannot tell me you are opposed to mustaches, Vince."

"Well... I suppose not."

They sat in awkward silence for some time before Vince gathered his courage.

"I wish you happiness, Charlotte, truly; and I shall grieve the loss of your company when you are gone to be a married woman."

"Thank you, Vince, and I am sorry to hear of the departure of the Bingleys and Mr Darcy."

Vince shook his head and, as they returned to the house drew her into conversation about her wedding clothes and how soon it would be before he could refer to her as Mrs Collins.

The happy day took place only a fortnight later and provided sufficient distraction from the departure of the Bingleys that Jane was spared too much pity, as many in town had expected Mr Bingley to stay longer and eventually propose, and meant that Vince's erstwhile friendship with Mr Darcy was quickly forgotten. As for Jane herself, her anxiety was quite painful. She had written to Miss Bingley to thank her for her kind letter and by the day of Charlotte Lucas's wedding had still not received a reply or any word at all from either of the Bingleys. She remained tranquil in appearance but could not keep her emotions from her siblings.

Vince, conversely, kept his own feelings entirely secret and endeavored to do as Howard had asked and to not think of him. He was only unsuccessful in this when brushing his hair as he was reminded of the letter hidden within his brush; which meant that he spent an hour each day feeling melancholy performing an act which he had used to find comforting. He took Charlotte's words to heart, though, and did not allow his appearance to suffer again due to his heartbreak. He simply brushed his hair a little more quickly than he had used to do and no one was any the wiser.


	25. Chapter 25

**Thank you again to those who reviewed, that was a lovely surprise to find this morning. **

**Here be another chapter, to be followed in a few minutes by another because I have no talent for self-restraint.**

**Ta.**

* * *

The letter from Miss Bingley, when it finally arrived, was brief and simply stated how happily settled they were at present in London, with no thoughts of moving in the next few months, and that Mr Bingley conveyed his apologies at not being able to say goodbye to his friends in person. Jane showed it to her brother and announced with a heavy heart that by the time they were ever to see each other again, if that time should ever come, Mr Bingley would surely have forgotten her entirely.

Their only relief from the melancholy was the arrival of Mrs Bennet's brother and his wife, Mr and Mrs Gardiner, who came as usual to spend Christmas with their relations. Mr Gardiner was a sensible and steady-minded person, unlike his sister, and his wife was a woman after her husband's heart and they were therefore able to add much to the family's conversation and entertainment over the period.

The first part of Mrs Gardiner's business on her arrival, was to distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions, remarking on the fact that Vince appeared to be dressed entirely in keeping with the current style despite living in so removed a location.

"It is a singular talent of yours, my boy," she complimented. "To be ahead of fashions without being aware of them. The fashion houses are much deprived in not having you among their number, as are the music halls for that matter. Will you play for us?"

Vince obliged and went to sit at the piano whilst his mother began to relate the tragedies that had befallen her in Mary's refusal to marry Mr Collins and Jane's missed opportunity in winning the affections of Mr Bingley.

Mrs Gardiner nodded dutifully and, later in the evening came to position herself by the piano under the pretense of examining the various scores that lay thereabout.

"I am sorry to hear of your sister's predicament. It seems likely to have been a desirable match for Jane, but these things happen so often. A young man, such as I have heard Mr Bingley described, so easily falls in love with a pretty face for a few weeks, and when accident separates them so easily forgets her, that these sort of inconsistencies are very frequent."

"An excellent consolation in its way," Vince replied, "but it will not do here. Mr Bingley was not so flippant as some seem to think. He was sharp and observant. No, this was something more. It doesn't often happen that the interference of friends, of relations, will persuade a young man of independent fortune and mind to stay away and think no more of a girl, whom he was violently in love with only a few days before. Jane does not suffer by accident, I assure you."

"But the phrase 'violently in love' is so hackneyed, Vince, I am surprised to hear you use it. It is so indefinite. Pray, how violent was Mr Bingley's love?"

"I never saw a more promising inclination. He was growing quite inattentive to other people and wholly engrossed by her. When they danced they made a prettier couple than you could ever hope to set eyes on. His sister was quite furious."

"Poor Jane," replied his aunt. "To be so used. But I say, do you think she might be persuaded to return to London with Mr Gardiner and myself? There shall be many balls and public assemblies to attend. Perhaps all that is needed is for Mr Bingley to be presented with an opportunity to dance again with the object of his affection. What do you say?"

"I shall say that it is the very plan we have been looking for and that I like it very well. Thank you, Aunt."

Mrs Gardiner nodded and asked if there had been others among the Bingleys' party that might have affected Mr Bingley's decision not to return.

"Only Mr Darcy," Vince informed her, "and he is a man of the most upstanding character. He would never keep apart a couple who were so obviously created for one another. And without any impediment to their happiness."

He tried to keep his tone neutral but Kitty, who had been sitting quite close, chimed in with her own thoughts on the matter.

"Oh yes, Vince and Mr Darcy are fine friends and our dear brother won't hear a word against him, despite what Mr Wickham has assured us of his black and prideful nature. Vince is quite devoted, aren't you, Vince?"

Vince's fingers stopped above the keys, unable to deal with the renewed teasing and the secrecy of is true feelings but the cessation of the music caused every head in the room to turn in his direction and he felt a familiar warmth in his cheeks as a blush began to heat his skin from his neck to his hair line.

"Mr Darcy? Is that Mr Darcy of Yorkshire? Pemberley House?" Mrs Gardiner asked ponderously. "I was born and raised in Yorkshire and had the pleasure of being a little acquainted with the former Mr Darcy some time ago as I recall."

Vince began to play again, idly and without thought of what tune he played.

"And what do you remember of him? Of the family and the estate in general?"

"It is a beautiful estate, Vince," she told him wistfully. "You would appreciate it very much, with your eye for colour and gift for art. From memory the old Mr Darcy was a solemn but compassionate man and his older son was likewise. His wife died shortly after the birth of the second son, he is some ten years younger than his brother, I believe, a few years younger than yourself. I cannot believe that anyone could have cause to call Mr Darcy's character black, though I only met him when he was a boy; but I do recall a scandal surrounding his dismissal of a servant shortly after his father's death. The young man had been blackmailing the older Mr Darcy and tried a similar stunt with the current Mr Darcy but to no avail. Or such is my recollection. I would not set too much store by the words of a young officer, Kitty, who is likely trying only to impress either you or your sister enough to steal a kiss."

Vince tried not to smile too broadly and began to play with more enthusiasm. It was at that moment that he realised that he was playing the tune of 'Bright Blue Eyes'. While he might never have the good fortune to see Howard again, at least he could rest assured that the man was one of honour and good character. He did grow concerned, however, that the continued presence of Mr Wickham in their social circle was not in their best interests at all.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26. Phew. I blame Jane Austen, she stole my brain during the night like a monkey after a new face.**

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Jane left for London with the Gardiners the week after Christmas and Vince found the house rather empty. He had taken new delight in brushing his hair and thinking of Howard, even in the knowledge that it would not be requited, and his younger sisters were taking great delight in teasing him for his vanity.

A letter arrived from Jane to announce her safe arrival in London; and when she wrote again, Vince hoped it would be in her power to say something about the Bingleys. A letter also arrived from Charlotte and Vince was pleased to see that his friend related her news cheerfully, if without great emotion. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, garden, and roads, were all satisfactory, and Lady Catherine's behaviour was most friendly and obliging. She hoped that Vince might visit her soon, when her father made the journey in March, and that he would write soon with all the news of home.

His next letter from Jane held more interest and he read it eagerly, wondering when he had become so fond of correspondence when he had previously only cared to read fairy stories and other such fictions.

"My dear Vince, (she began.)

Yesterday I had the good fortune to call upon the Bingley's house here in London. Mr Bingley was out when I called but Miss Bingley received me gladly, although I do not think she was in the best spirits. She reproached me for not giving her notice of my coming to London and I must assume that the note I sent her upon my arrival never reached her.

She seemed bored, if I can make such a judgement of her character, and I learned that the much talked of daughter of Lady Catherine had not come to London after all but was kept at home with a cold, only a few miles from our own dear Charlotte.

My visit was not long as Miss Bingley had some other engagement to be about. She informed me that her brother is well, but she has herself seen little of him as he has been much engaged with Mr Darcy and the gentlemen at his club.

I hope all is well at home and I look forward to your letters.

As always, your loving sister,

Jane."

Vince shook his head over the letter. His sister was too trusting, too willing to assume the best of others. He doubted Miss Bingley would inform her brother of the visit and that only a happy accident would enlighten Mr Bingley to Jane's presence in Town. Four weeks passed away, and Jane saw nothing of him, either about the town or at the assemblies. She persuaded herself she did not regret it but could no longer be blind to Miss Bingley's inattention to her.

Vince read the letters from his sister with dwindling hope and January and February held little pleasure. He walked to the Town and back again, he listened to Mary read and Lydia and Kitty squabble over who was preferred by Mr Wickham and he sewed new dresses for each of his three sisters and several new ensembles for himself. But there was no joy to be had.

Finally, March brought with it the promised journey to visit Charlotte. He would travel with Sir William and Charlotte's young sister and was thanked for doing so by Lady Lucas who saw benefit in having an able-bodied young man accompanying her aging husband and fourteen-year-old daughter. The addition to the trip of one nights stop in London meant that Vince would have a chance to see Jane and it was with higher spirits than he had felt for some time that Vince set off on his journey.

Jane did not seem in the best spirits when he saw her but put on a cheerful countenance over dinner and told him that she was quite over any feelings she had had toward Mr Bingley and was determined to simply enjoy herself for the remainder of her visit.

Before they left, Vince was delighted to receive an invitation to accompany his aunt and uncle on a short holiday over the summer.

"Since speaking to you on the topic, Vince," Mrs Gardiner told him, "I have had a desire to visit my old country of Yorkshire again. It is not the most popular destination, perhaps, but it has some of the most beautiful views you shall ever see and the northern moors are well known to be breathtaking."

"My dear aunt, thank you!" he cried. "This shall be a marvelous undertaking. Adieu to disappointment and spleen. Hello, Yorkshire. Oh, this is a delightful request. I shall prepare for it as soon as I return from my visit to Mr and Mrs Collins for it shall require an entirely unique set of suits and ensembles. Oh, thank you aunt."

She had laughed at his enthusiasm and thanked him for leading her to think of it in the first instance and so Vince set off to Charlotte's home with a feeling that at least his year would be full of distractions, if not fulfillments.


	27. Chapter 27

**One more for the day, sorry. It's only small.**

**Hope it's still as fun to read as it is to write.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of it , although I have altered several characters quite a lot for my own ends.**

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The parsonage, when it became discernible, seemed to Vince to be exactly in the model of every other parsonage he had ever seen. It was quaint and brown with a neat garden. Upon hearing the carriage approach, Mr Collins and Charlotte appeared at the door and Vince was forced to admit that they made a reasonably respectable couple. Mrs Collins, as Vince delighted in calling her, welcomed her friend with lively pleasure and her little sister and father with enthusiasm. Mr Collins seemed unaltered by his marriage and pompously kept Vince at the gate while he first questioned him on his family and then forced him to admire the meagre winter garden. When Vince was finally allowed to process up the walk Mr Collins pointed out the neatness of the entrance, the alterations he had done to improve the stair rail and then guided Vince into the parlour in such a way that made Vince suspect the man of mocking him. When they were eventually all seated he welcomed them a second time with ostentatious formality to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his wife's offers of refreshment.

Vince wanted to laugh. The man seemed to be trying to show Vince what he was denying his sister by supporting her in her decision not to marry but he kept his features carefully neutral. After partaking in cups of tea and relating their journey and admiring the furniture that Mr Collins drew their attention to, they were led out into the back garden and Vince bit his lip as Charlotte expounded the many health benefits afforded her husband by spending several hours each day in the garden. It was a decent enough garden, Vince would admit, and backed onto a series of meadows and upon reaching an opening in a stand of trees they were afforded their first view of the house of Lady Catherine, a handsome modern building, well situated on the rising ground.

Mr Collins offered to show them further but Charlotte and her sister declined, as their footwear was not up to the late March frost and Vince, seeing his chance, exclaimed that Mr Collins and Sir William were too much his superiors in pace and stamina and that he would be best suited to retiring with the ladies. The smirk Mr Collins sent in his direction was not lost on Vince but he really could not find it in himself to care and knew he would much rather be in Charlotte's company than her husband's.

At dinner Vince learned that the Lady Catherine was in residence.

"Yes, indeed," he told Mr Collins, "I heard tell that her daughter was prevented from her trip to London by a cold."

Mr Collins did not take well to having his news already known but smiled indulgently from beneath his mustache.

"Yes, Mr Bennet, they are both at home and you will have the honour of seeing Lady Catherine de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I need not say you will be delighted with her. She is a woman of great affability and condescension, and fashion, and I doubt not but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice when the service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying that she will include you and the young Miss Lucas in every invitation with which she honours us during your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is charming. We dine at her home twice every week, and are never allowed to walk home. Her ladyship's carriage is regularly ordered for us. I should say, one of her ladyship's carriages, for she has several."

The evening passed rather too slowly for Vince, and he was forced to listen to too many tales of the Lady Catherine and her daughter and her nephew who had come to visit several times and would soon, surely, be proposing marriage to the delightful Miss de Bourgh. When he finally crawled into his bed he was too tired to do little else but grasp his hairbrush tightly to his chest as he fell asleep, an act which he regretted when he woke in the morning to a rather irritating series of scratches on his chest from the bristles.


	28. Chapter 28

**Hello. More chapters, sorry. I don't know when this will end, I just hope it ends up shorter than the actual Pride and Prejudice.**

**Ta.**

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The next day Mr Collins strode into the house to announce that he had spoken to none other than Miss de Bourgh when her carriage stopped by their garden wall not half an hour ago and that she had graciously invited them all to dine with her and her mother, the Lady Catherine, the following evening.

He was quite triumphant in the swiftness of such an invitation. The power of displaying the grandeur of his patroness to his wondering cousin, father-in-law and little sister-in-law, and of letting them see her civilities towards himself and his wife, was exactly what he had wished for. Scarcely anything else was talked about for the rest of the day and, despite his own lack of enthusiasm at such an engagement, Vince thought it the perfect opportunity to present Charlotte with the new dresses he had made for her.

"Why, Vince they are lovely!" she cried as she examined the two gowns. "And so simple as well. Not like your usual style at all."

"Thank you, I think," he replied. "I wanted to make something you would feel comfortable wearing as a clergyman's wife and that would not cause talk or single you out. Are they alright?"

"They are more than alright," she said, hugging him tightly. "You are so very talented, Vince. I think you should go into business, with such skills. Certainly if you were a woman you would be considered greatly accomplished."

"Please, do not remind me. I am all too aware of my feminine qualities. Alas, there is little I can do about them."

The look she gave him at that was tender and her second embrace was gentle and loving.

When the time came, the following day for each of the party to retire to dress for dinner with Lady Catherine, Mr Collins drew Vince aside and looked down his mustache at his younger cousin.

"Do not make yourself uneasy, my good cousin, about your apparel. Lady Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of dress in us, which becomes herself and daughter. I would advise you merely to put on whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest and a reflection of your standing. There is no occasion for anything more. Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you for being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank preserved."

Vince understood from this that he was expected to dress in a manner that reflected his lowly status. Mr Collins would not wish any of his party to stand out and give the possibility of causing offense. He should probably wear something brown, he knew, but he was very much opposed to brown clothing, on principle. He chose instead a waistcoat of gold, a coat of delicate green, cream breeches and boots which, while brown, were of a golden brown colour that thoroughly complimented his waistcoat.

The look on Mr Collins's face when he descended the stairs in his attire was enough to make Vince's night worthwhile and he went along to dinner in finer spirits than he had hoped to attain.

As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk across the park but as they neared the the steps to the hall the young Miss Lucas's alarm was plain on her face and even Sir William did not look perfectly calm. The house was imposing but Vince was determined that his courage would not fail him. From the entrance hall, of which Mr Collins pointed out, with a rapturous air, the fine proportion and finished ornaments, they followed the servants through an ante-chamber, to the room where Lady Catherine, her daughter, and her daughter's companion, were sitting. Her ladyship, with great condescension, arose to receive them; and as Charlotte had settled it with her husband that the office of introduction should be hers, it was performed in a proper manner, without any of those apologies and thanks which he would have thought necessary.

Sir William was so completely awed by the grandeur surrounding him that he had but just courage enough to make a very low bow, and take his seat without saying a word, and his daughter, frightened almost out of her senses, sat on the edge of her chair, not knowing which way to look. Vince found himself quite equal to the scene, and could observe the three ladies before him in a composed manner. He did not think much of Lady Catherine, a blunt featured woman who spoke in a manner which implied that argument was not an option. Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh appeared to be a small and sickly young woman, the very opposite of her mother in features. She spoke very little, except in a low voice to her elderly companion, in whose appearance there was nothing remarkable, and who was entirely engaged in listening to what she was being told. It all seemed rather dull and Vince's one attempt at lightening the conversation had earned him a scowl from Mr Collins and a vigorous head shake from Charlotte.

The dinner was excellent, the conversation minimal and when the carriage was finally called for, Vince was more than ready to depart. He did not wonder that Howard was not accustomed to conversation or friendship if this was the habit of his closest family members.


	29. Chapter 29

**More awkward Howard and Vince time, yay!**

**It's a hot day today and I think I've gone a little silly. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. It was really nice.**

**Disclaimer: I really, truly don't own this and don't intend to make any money out of it. Promise.**

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Sir William stayed only a week with his daughter, just long enough to see that she was happily settled, and entreated Vince to accompany his younger daughter home at the month's end. Vince agreed, having little other choice and resigned himself to several weeks of tedium. Conversation with Charlotte was pleasant, he taught the young Miss Lucas to dance, he took walks, and he made many sketches of the landscapes and animals that he encountered, and he was bored. Dinner with Lady Catherine happened with undesired regularity and Vince kept almost entirely silent during these occasions, instead thinking up new adventures for Charlie, the pink glue monster, and devising elaborate plans of escape from Lady Catherine's mansion.

On one such visit Vince was shaken from his musings by the mention of a name. A name of which he was very fond. Mr Darcy was soon expected and, as much as the news sent a thrill of excitement through his bones, if also filled Vince with fear. The Lady Catherine was very pleased to announce his coming and seemed annoyed that the lowly Miss Lucas and Mr Bennet were already acquainted with him. Charlotte did not mention how closely they were acquainted and Vince stayed silent on the topic and wondered how he would be able to avoid seeing Howard while he was here, for it seemed the only available option. He could not be in Howard's company and not want to re-engage their friendship, let alone do ...other... things with him.

He did not have long to think on is, however, as Mr Collins announced the arrival of Mr Darcy's carriage the very next day and informed them all that there were two of the Lady Catherine's nephews to pay their respects to; Mr Darcy, with whom they were acquainted, and his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, the eldest son of Lady Catherine's youngest sister, and to the great surprise of all the party, both the Colonel and Mr Darcy chose to call upon them that same day. Charlotte saw their approach first, from her upstairs window and rushed to tell Vince who immediately turned a shade so pale that it rivaled the white of his shirt. He wondered just how socially unacceptable it was to vomit on a visitor's shoes, for he felt sure that such would be the outcome if he were forced to face Mr Darcy at this moment and pretend that they barely knew one another.

The door-bell sent Charlotte flying down the stairs and Vince followed after her and soon the gentlemen were shown into the parlour. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who led the way, was of about thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the gentleman. Howard looked just as he had when they had met, paid compliments to Mr Collins and his wife with his usual reserve and, whatever his feelings might have been toward Vince, met them all with every appearance of composure. Vince merely bowed to him without saying a word and concentrated on keeping his breakfast in his stomach.

They sat and by accident of design Vince found himself next to Howard, sat slightly apart from the Colonel and Mr and Mrs Collins. He could feel the tension in Howard's muscles through his breeches even though their legs were not quite touching and his heart began to gallop about his chest so loudly he felt sure it would be audible to the other man.

When the Colonel was animately engrossed in a tale of his journey Howard finally spoke, in a soft but nonchalant tone.

"Are your family well, Mr Bennet?"

"Quite," came the strangled reply and Vince swallowed and attempted the answer a second time.

"My eldest sister has been in London these three months. Have you never happened to see her there?"

He knew perfectly well that he never had; but he wished to see whether he had even been aware of her presence, or what had passed between Jane and Miss Bingley, but Howard only looked a little confused.

"I have not been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet in Town. That is a shame, she would have made refreshing company if I had but known she was there."

They lapsed into silence again and Vince, as he rested his hands on the lounge by his thigh could barely suppress a shiver as he felt the edge of Howard's finger nudge his own.

It was very nearly nothing, and yet it was more than he had expected. A glance at Howard told him that he had reached out to Vince very much against his better judgement but Vince still felt a flicker of hope at the contact. The visit was concluded all too soon and when they stood to make their bows Vince saw that Howard seemed to be shaking just slightly, and he knew, that to anyone who cared to notice, he was as well.

"Shall you be dining with our aunt while we are here?" Howard asked, turning as he reached the door and trying to seem casual.

"I very much hope so, Mr Darcy," was Vince's reply, and for the first time since being introduced to the Lady Catherine, the sentiment was true.


	30. Chapter 30

**Hello again. More Howard and Vince old timey silliness.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters or this plot line.**

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It was some days before they received an invitation to dine at the hall. With her nephews to entertain her Lady Catherine had little need for the Collinses. However, on Easter Sunday, after the service, Mr Collins came to inform them that they were to dine there that very evening on special request of Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. The invitation was accepted of course, and at the proper hour they joined the party in Lady Catherine's drawing room. Her ladyship received them civilly but it was plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else, and she insisted on being engrossed in her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Howard, much more than anyone else in the room.

Fitzwilliam seemed genuinely glad to see them and quickly engaged Vince in conversation about travel and fashion and the styles of music coming forth from the continent.

"You see, Mr Bennet, I have heard quite a bit about you, I must admit."

"You have?" Vince was not quite sure how to proceed. It all depended on who he had received his information from.

"I have," Fitzwilliam continued. "I have been reliably informed by Mr Darcy there and by Mr Christopher Bingley that you are the best turned out young man they have ever had the pleasure to meet and that you are also a man with a startling array of talents."

"Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley are very kind. They did me the honour of calling me friend for the brief time they were in my neighbourhood."

He was being cautious, he well aware, but he did not know exactly what the colonel had been told about his friendship with Howard. As if sensing this Fitzwilliam offered him a kind smile and leaned in close enough that no one would be able to overhear their conversation.

"I hear that you were able to make my cousin Howard smile, no mean feat I may tell you, and that you were able to engage my cousin in long conversations on many topics, from plants to - say - planets?"

Vince couldn't help but laugh at this and Fitzwilliam joined him, happy to see the younger man put at his ease. Their laughter unfortunately drew the attention of Lady Catherine who did not scruple to call out to them.

"What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Mr Bennet? I have not heard the boy speak since I met him, let alone laugh. Let me hear what it is."

"We are speaking of music, Madam," Fitzwilliam replied hastily. "Of our differences in taste and what we both find pleasing, nothing truly interesting I assure you."

"Of music? Then I pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. My husband you know, was a great proficient."

At this she gestured to a large portrait on the wall of a rather short man, leaning on a rock and smiling nervously. Vince blinked at the painting. He had never seen such impressive eye brows in his life as those sported by the late Lord Chris de Bourgh. Fitzwilliam grimaced but hid it quickly behind a smile before continuing to converse with his aunt.

"Indeed, Madam, there is no doubt," Fitzwilliam replied. "I have been reliably informed by mutual friends that Mr Bennet is quite proficient at the instrument as well."

"Mr Bennet?"

It was clear the lady was not entirely pleased at this information and Vince attempted to hide behind his hair, only to have Fitzwilliam pat him on the back and continue with his praise.

"Indeed, I was told that he accompanied his sisters at every recital, and was such a perfect compliment to their sweet voices that all who heard the music were thoroughly enchanted."

"Well," proclaimed the Lady Catherine. "We must hear this proficiency for ourselves after dinner."

Vince could only nod half-heartedly and soon enough they moved into the dining room where he sat quietly and wondered if now were the time to put one of his many escape plans into action.

When coffee was over, Colonel Fizwilliam reminded Vince of his duty to play for them all, and he sat down directly at the instrument with a great sense of foreboding. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked, as before to her nephews, until Mr Darcy, to the surprise of his aunt, excused himself and walked deliberately toward the pianoforte. He took a seat beside the instrument in a style so reminiscent of the first time he had heard Vince play that Vince felt a smile creeping onto his lips completely against his will.

"Do you mean to frighten me, or simply confuse me, Mr Darcy, by coming and sitting in your accustomed place to hear me play?"

"I hope I do not frighten you, Mr Bennet, by coming to listen to your playing. I am like my aunt, a great appreciator music, as you are well aware. As for any confusion, well," Howard looked down at his hands as if they might make the situation somehow less confusing. "Please rest assured that you are not the only one to feel such an emotion."

Vince looked down at his own fingers as they dances swiftly over the keys.

"Would you hear one of the several sources of my fear, Mr Darcy?"

"If you would tell it."

"I had hoped to spend the remainder my time here quietly, and without raising comment from everyone. I fear your arrival has exposed me. I shall find myself now engaged to play at every gathering."

Howard chuckled and Vince ducked his head, not wanting anyone, Howard included, to see his delight at having made Howard laugh.

"But I also fear that you have told your cousin that I have knowledge of the planets. I do not think I wish anyone to know that I once asked you to show me where the planet Venus could be seen on a dark evening. Not if I am to continue, as I was led to believe, without your friendship once you have departed from here."

He hoped he had made himself plain enough but he did not look up for fear and there was silence until the piece was finished when he found that Colonel Fitzwilliam had approached and was watching him intently.

"You do not need to be so fearful, Mr Bennet," he said quietly. "Howard and I have long been in one another's confidences. You are in no danger from me. Our Mr Darcy, however, will be in very great danger from me if he treats you in any way unkindly, of that you can be sure."

Vince chuckled and they lapsed into silence until Fitzwilliam sighed and rolled his eyes at them both.

"I heard that the two of you conversed like the closest of friends and could barely be separately when in company together. Now I find you both as taciturn as each other."

"I am not accustomed to speaking so among my betters, sir," Vince said with a grin. "Mr Darcy can have no similar excuse, however, for he is always superior to his companions."

"I do not like to speak hastily or without knowing my companions," Howard replied but Vince smiled openly at him now.

"You are willing to speak hastily when you think your person has been slighted in some way, or to rebuke those you had so soon declared friend. However, Mr Darcy, if speaking is truly troublesome for you in large parties, you had best take up dancing to avoid having to enter into long conversation with any one person."

Fitzwilliam laughed heartily at this and Vince began to play a light and playful tune.

"I am not used to dancing, Mr Bennet," Howard replied. "I am not fond of being touched so casually."

"I have witnessed your dislike for contact with your fellow man, Mr Darcy, quite personally if you shall recall, but I also know that you are willing to lay aside such dislike under the right circumstances."

He gave a slight wiggle of his eyebrows and Fitzwilliam's laugh turned into a cough when Lady Catherine turned her gaze in their direction. Howard looked rather uncomfortable again and Colonel Fitzwilliam retired back to his place by his aunt, leaving Howard and Vince in companionable silence until Lady Catherine declared it was time for the carriage to be sent for.


	31. Chapter 31

**Hi again. Have had a little trouble uploading today so here are a few chapters to make up for it. There's a bit of happy and a bit of sad. Sad Vince is sad, and sweet. Hope you like it.**

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As the new day dawned Vince found himself awake and about earlier than the rest of the house. His visit would soon be coming to an end and he decided to take one last walk about the park behind the parsonage. The air was cold on his face and he had no doubt that it would give him a red nose but the earliness of the hour would surely protect him from being seen in such a state. He set out across the meadow, trying not to think of the many complications currently vying for prominence in his life.

He did not know what to do. He had only three days before he was due to escort Miss Lucas home and no assurance as to what Howard's intentions were toward him. He thought it likely that there were no intentions at all. The man was betrothed to another and even if he was not, he could not very well propose to Vince. The situation seemed hopeless and he sighed as he stood against the trees at the edge of the meadow and turned to look toward the home of Lady Catherine.

The sharp inhalation he took at the sight of a figure walking toward him across the park sent cold air burning into his lungs and he could not seem to draw another breath. He stood where he was, unmoving as the other man walked toward him and did not speak until his breathy whisper could be easily heard.

"Howard."

The older man's lips were upon his in an instant and the delicious dizzy feeling had returned. At the sensation of Howard's tongue on his bottom lip he gasped and when the tongue entered his mouth his knees buckled.

They broke apart after several minutes and stood staring at one another in the mist of the morning.

"Howard."

"I'm sorry, Vince, you just looked so beautiful. Like a startled deer."

"I hope it is not my likeness to a deer that attracts you, Howard."

"No, of course not... Well, perhaps a little." He nudged his hips against Vince's, pushing him against the tree.

"Are we doomed forever to meet only under the cover of trees?"

"There is a touch of deja vu, I shall admit."

"Can we further the feeling, do you think?"

Howard pushed his body against Vince's and kissed him again. Vince could feel his body shudder with the excitement, the risk, but mostly from the feel of Howard's lips, his tongue, his mustache. The sensations were overwhelming but he had no desire to let them stop. It was with an unhappy moan that he allowed Howard to pull back once more, their mingling breath misting in the cold air.

"I can do this no more, Vince," Howard said in a voice harsh and breathless from their kiss. "In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings cannot be repressed any longer."

"What?"

"You must know, Vince. You must know how I admire you, how I love you."

Vince's astonishment was beyond expression. He stared, coloured, doubted and was silent.

"I have tried to stop this, for both our sakes. Your position is lowly enough as it is, without such a scandal, your family would not recover from it and your sisters will struggle to find suitable husbands as it is without your running away with another man."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I know you must be feeling the judgement, the degradation of what we are. It is sordid and sinful to do so but still I love you. Against my better judgement, against my wishes, I love you."

Vince took a moment to digest the torrent of information before he spoke but, despite his best attempts, he could not keep the emotion from thickening his voice.

"You love me against your better judgement? Against your wishes?"

"Vince, I-"

"You think I am sordid and sinful?"

"I simply-"

"Why would you tell me your feelings when nothing good can come of such a declaration? Or would you have me as your secret shame? Your lowly boy fit only for trysts among the trees. And when you marry, what then?"

"Vince, I do not know-"

"Then do not tell me that you love me against your better judgement! That is not a fine way to woo anyone, even a man you consider so far beneath you. Or is this how you high and mighty gentlemen operate? Is this what Bingley thought of my sister? That his love for her, which was obvious for all to see, was bad judgement on his part? Because our family is so low and common? Is that why he chose no more to see her, or acknowledge her?"

"Your sister?"

"My sister, Jane, who fell in love with your friend Bingley and had her heart broken for her trouble."

"I..." Howard seemed lost by the turn of Vince's conversation. He wanted to address his own feelings for Vince, not Bingley's feelings for Jane, but Vince's face held a fierceness that told him the topic must be addressed.

"I did not discern such feelings in your sister, Miss Bingley assured Christopher and myself that she had heard from the girl that she liked him well enough but felt no attachment. They have been in correspondence, I believe."

"She told you that?"

"Yes," Howard nodded emphatically. "And so I convinced him that he should seek love elsewhere, with someone from his own circle."

Vince was too full of anger to respond, too taken by the stupidity and blindness of men who were supposed to be his betters, but could not see things plainly in front of them.

"And, Vince, you must know," Howard continued, "I only speak of your position because for your family it would be all the more devastating if the scandal of our love were revealed."

"Our love?"

"Yes."

"This love which you confess and yet feel no desire to pursue?"

"Yes?"

"What am I to do with this love, Howard?"

Howard only looked at him, a bemused expression upon his features which only added fuel to Vince's temper.

"It was better when I had only pleasant memories. What am I to do now? Loved but not embraced? You put my emotions all in turmoil until I do not know how feel any longer. You do me a disservice, Howard. For it is my _wish_ to love you. My _judgement_ tells me that loving you and being loved by you would be the greatest triumph of my life and my heart, even though I know it cannot be openly acknowledged. I do not want to be your darkness, the shadow on your life that causes you to live in fear of a scandal. I no longer care about a scandal. It is only talk and I have been the subject of gossip all my life. I cannot simply find a woman to marry, it would be a cruelty to both of us. No woman could make me happy, nor any man but you, I am convinced of that fact now. My sister has already resolved never to marry, I shall simply follow her example. But I pray, have a care for your lady, Howard. She is already a creature to be pitied, for her health and her mother, do not condemn her to a life with an indifferent husband, as well."

Howard still made no reply, his jaw slack and his eyes, normally so small, were wide and glassy. Vince sighed and turned to leave but Howard caught his hand and pressed their lips together once more.

Their other kisses had been passionate but tender. This kiss was fire and desperation and, at first, Vince was swept away by the sheer force of it, surrendering his mouth to the older man. He knew this would be their last embrace, the final moment of feeling complete and whole and truly alive for them both.

"No," he gasped sliding away from the tree and the man who had held him so securely against it. "It is as you told me, we cannot do this."

"But, Vince," Howard's words came out almost as a sob. "I cannot live without you."

"Then you must learn, Howard. For the sake of your better judgement."

He continued to back away, straightening his jacket as he did so, trying to recover a degree of decorum in a situation which seemed to belong to another world and time.

"I shall bid you goodbye, Mr Darcy," he said huskily. "We shall part as acquaintances, and no more. I wish you every happiness with Miss de Bourgh and with all your future endeavours."

He waited but Howard did not reply.

"Now is the point in our parting when you address me as Mr Bennet and likewise wish me well, Mr Darcy."

"I cannot."

Vince nodded and with one final look at the man who had laid claim on his heart, he turned and walked back to the parsonage. He felt no calm, no relief, no hope, only a deep hollowness, as though the wind of the meadows were whipping its way between his ribs and into the cavity of his chest. He supposed this was what one was meant to feel when their heart had been so misplaced and was forced to reside outside of its own body. He retired quietly to his room and saw, from a glance in the mirror, that he would have to stay there for the time being. His nose was red, his cheeks of uneven colour and his upper lip had once again been rubbed a tender pink. He lay down upon his bed and stared at the blank expanse of the wall, too heavy of body and soul to even brush his hair.


	32. Chapter 32

**More sad Vince. Naughty Mr Wickham. Howard being Howardly.**

**I think this chapter is another long one, sorry. Ta.**

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Vince declined all visits to Lady Catherine's dinner table over those last days, begging their forgiveness and claiming he had a nasty cold. Mr Collins had been incensed until he had laid eyes on Vince's pale skin, running nose, swollen eyes and miserable countenance for himself and then declared that it would not do to expose Miss de Bourgh to such malady and agreed to give his apologies for him.

Mr Darcy did not call again but Charlotte brought word that at their last dinner together he had been more taciturn than he was even usual to be and had been sporting a bruise under his left eye.

"He fell, he said, while walking in the park two days ago, and was left with a nasty bruise, but I did notice that the Colonel looked rather smug at the excuse and that the two men did not exchange a single word to each other over the course of the evening."

"Oh dear," Vince said with as indifferent air as he could manage, remembering Fitzwilliam's threat against Howard should he hurt Vince. "Poor Mr Darcy."

"Poor Mr Darcy indeed," Charlotte continued. "For the Colonel did then pay particular attention to Miss de Bourgh and she laughed with him and even seemed quite cheery, whilst Mr Darcy was made to sit with Lady Catherine."

Vince could not help the small smile that unfurled upon his lips on hearing Colonel Fitzwilliams punishment of his cousin. It did however, make him long to have seen Howard's reaction to such treatment, and to inspect the extent of the bruise and to, he admitted, tend to the wound and kiss it better.

He had heard nothing more of Mr Darcy by the day of his and Miss Lucas's departure and it was with some melancholy that he bid Charlotte goodbye and thanked Mr Collins for his hospitality. Their carriage had only travelled for ten minutes down the road when the tranquility of the journey was halted by approaching hoofbeats and the calling for the carriage to halt.

Vince leaned forward to the window and was met with the face of Colonel Fitzwilliam who smiled broadly and thrust a letter into Vince's hand.

"Our mutual friend had not the chance to say a proper farewell to you, Mr Bennet, and told me last night that he regretted so immensely. Sadly, his ankle has been tender since his 'fall' in the park several days ago," here Fitzwilliam grinned broadly and gave Vince a wink which Vince returned with a nod and his own wan smile of understanding, "and so I took it upon myself to deliver his letter to you before you could escape us completely."

"Thank you, Colonel," Vince said softly, aware that Miss Lucas was watching him intently. "For all you have done on my behalf."

"It is my pleasure, Mr Bennet. I only wish I could have known you longer. I hope I shall be able to further our acquaintance at some point."

"You will always be welcome in our neighbourhood, Colonel Fitzwilliam, I assure you. And thank you again."

Fitzwilliam gave him another broad grin and they shook hands awkwardly through the small carriage window. He tilted his hat to Miss Lucas and then spurred his horse into a trot and was gone. The carriage resumed its motion and Vince spoke with Miss Lucas about trifling matters until the swaying of the carriage lulled her into a doze partway through the afternoon and left him to himself and the letter still clutched in his hand.

"My dear Mr Vince Bennet,

I write this letter to you hoping that there shall be sufficient time to send it before you depart tomorrow and with no small amount of annoyance at myself at having left this correspondence to such a late hour. I write too, hoping that you are quite recovered from the cold I am told you have suffered from these last few days. I pray it did not affect you too greatly and that your recovery shall be swift. I myself have not been in full health either and while I am recovering swiftly I have been warned by my cousin Fitzwilliam against the danger of future accidents if I am not careful.

My reason for writing is not what you might suppose. I shall make no attempt to repeat the sentiments which were expressed the last time we saw one another, even though my feelings are unchanged. I can see now that to do so would only cause discomfort for those involved and nothing would be gained in the action. Instead I feel that there is a matter in which I must be far more blunt and plain speaking than I have been. I had though to protect myself by maintaining some mystery but I now know that by doing so I am not offering protection to you and that is far more important than my own self-interest. Despite your courageous words on the subject I do not wish to see you put in harms way, and am too well aware that words can cause great harm.

I wish to tell you of Mr Nathan Wickham and my relationship to him. His father worked for mine, as the head gardener on our estate, and for many years there was a bond of friendship between our two fathers. Wickham and I played together as small children and, as we grew older we remained close. Perhaps you can see where this tale is leading, Mr Bennet, for, as we grew I believed I could trust the young Mr Wickham with my great secret. He, upon hearing my confession, told his father, who encouraged his son to convince me that there was a mutual affection between us.

I am not a man who is used to friendship and attention, and at this slight affection toward me, I must admit, I fancied myself in love. I was but fifteen at the time, and he fourteen, and he asked me for proof of my love in a letter to him. This letter, once obtained, was given to his father. He in turn used it against my father in the basest form of blackmail. I was humiliated, my father heartbroken, and the Wickhams were given a sum of money in exchange for their silence. The older Mr Wickham died the following year from gangrene after a bad fall and my father followed only six months later after struggling through the winter with a persistent case of pneumonia. He could not bare to look at me in that year and sent me to stay with my aunt, the Lady Catherine, and from your own acquaintance with her I am sure you can imagine that this was not an enjoyable time for me.

When my father died and I returned home, Mr Nathan Wickham presented himself to me, and in his possession was that same, damning letter. He wished to obtain another one thousand pounds from me but I refused to give it. I argued that if the letter was made public I would deny it and that it would cause equal damage to him as to me as I mentioned his name explicitly several times in my writing, which included a rather badly metered poem, I might add.

He was, of course, incensed at my assertion and threatened me and, in short, I had him removed from the grounds and forbid him to ever return. It was a distressing way to end a friendship that had lasted some ten years. It was doubly distressing because I had believed myself to feel emotions that were nothing more than imagination and because I had been deceived into believing that my feelings were requited. My father, among his papers, left me a letter in which he explained to me the sin of my desires and the necessity to hide them and so have I done, until recently.

I hope that, upon learning this, you shall not think too harshly on my feelings toward Mr Wickham and my desire to see him far removed from your company. In the years since we parted company I have heard of several attempts by him to gain money improperly from people in a similar fashion and I have been much grieved by this. Last year he attempted to write to my younger brother but the letter was thankfully intercepted. He is not a man that I would trust in the company of one I hold dear and I pray you will be wary of him if he is to remain in your family's acquaintance. I hope too that you shall be able to persuade your sisters to lose their affection for him, for I fear it shall come to naught but heartache.

This is where I shall finish my writing. If I were to continue I would only cause embarrassment to myself and discomfort to you and that is something I do not wish. I ask once again that this letter be destroyed at your earliest convenience as I feel some level of trepidation at writing such details as I have when past experience has taught me the danger of putting one's true self down on paper. It is a mark of my trust in your character that I know you will not show these words to any other or use them in any way malicious.

And so I must say goodbye, Mr Bennet, and wish you well in all your endeavours. I hope life shall treat you favourably and that we might have cause to meet together as friends in the future.

Your servant always,

Mr Howard Darcy."

Reading this letter, Vince began to note, as tears stained the paper in his hands, that he had engaged in rather a lot of crying of late. It was a side effect of deep affection, he surmised, but not a particularly pleasant one. The mystery of Mr Darcy's involvement with Mr Wickham was finally revealed but it brought more discomfort than it expelled, for Vince had no idea of what transpired between his young sisters and Mr Wickham back in his home town and did not see any clear way of discouraging them from their adoration of him when he returned.

Wiping his eyes upon a now very well used handkerchief, he used the remaining hours until their arrival at Mr Gardiner's house in London to commit as much of the letter as he could to memory, just as he had done with the first. This letter was far too weighty to fit within the confines of his hair brush so he settled for placing it within a hidden pocket on the inside of his waistcoat. It sat above his heart and, though the letter itself contained no declarations of love, it gave him small comfort that words written by a hand he had held with such affection were now near him.

His unsettled response to the thought of Mr Darcy brought a further tear to his eye, but he scolded it away. With each hour his humour seemed to change. First he would be resolute in his anger, the next weepy and mournful, then suddenly hopeful and romantically inclined. He found that no matter how he felt, his love for the older man was at least constant, but knew this did not bode well for his future happiness.

He had composed himself well enough by the time the carriage reached the Gardiner abode and he was able greet his aunt, uncle and sister with good cheer and regale them with stories of Lady Catherine and Charlotte and Mr Collins. Jane looked decidedly out of spirits and Vince was glad to take her home the next day and she seemed as pleased to farewell the city.

Their reception at home was a jolly one. Their father had once again missed them dreadfully and scolded Vince quietly for not writing home as often as he should. Their mother exclaimed that they both appeared far too thin but had little time to hear their news over her own stream of complaints, the chief of which was echoed by Lydia and Kitty to the effect that the militia were soon to be leaving for Brighton and that they had a wish to spend the summer there but that Mr Bennet would not hear of it. Vince thought his father very sensible and inwardly rejoiced that Mr Wickham would be moving on and might soon be put entirely out of mind.

Mary had embraced first Jane and then Vince before offering them tea, and it was a relief to at last sit before the fireplace in their accustomed seats and enjoy each others company. In this way he quietly mentioned that he had seen Mr Darcy briefly while away, and that he seemed well and had been disappointed to have been unaware of Jane's presence in London. He felt in desperate need of their guidance and reassurance but knew not how to speak of what had passed between himself and Howard without revealing those things which Howard had asked him to remain silent on. When he remembered that Howard had confided much to Fitzwilliam, however, he felt he could at least relate some of the meeting in the meadow.


	33. Chapter 33

**After the last two, which were long, this one is short and a little bit happy.**

**Reviews, as always are lovely, and remind me that I'm writing this for actual people, not just my own weird imagination. Ta-ta.**

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"He kissed you!?"

"Is that very wrong?"

Vince looked from one sister to the other, unsure of whether they were greatly offended by his admission. Jane was blushing furiously. Even her ears, Vince noted, were a rosy hue. Mary was looking down at her hands but after a moment Vince saw the shake of her shoulders and when she did deign to look up her eyes were shining from barely restrained laughter.

"It is not wrong, Vince, though perhaps a bit forward," she told him. "Most of us wait until marriage to be quite so intimate, but..."

"But you and I have no marriages to look forward to," Vince finished for her.

"Indeed."

"And it was not a premeditated act. At least on my part."

At this, Mary did giggle but her hands flew to her mouth to cover the fact.

"I apologise, Vince," she whispered between her fingers. "I do not wish to appear like Lydia or Kitty. I did not mean to laugh or give the impression that your situation is in any way humorous."  
"It is not humorous at all," Jane spoke solemnly. "It is tragic."

Vince slumped back against the chair but he knew that she was right.

"They were very nice kisses," he murmured wistfully.

"Do you mean to say there was more than one?"

"Well," Vince smiled nervously. "There were several in the garden during the ball at the Bingleys. And several more in the meadow near Lady Catherine's. I did not have the presence of mind to accurately count at the time."

"Oh, Vince," Jane sighed. "He has made it clear enough to you and you have agreed that nothing can come of your affection for one another. I am sorry that it has ended so but you must put it from your mind. Think no more of stolen kisses and a life which cannot be."

"Do you not think you are being rather harsh, Jane?" Mary interjected gently. "What harm is there in thinking of happy memories?"

"They will eat at his heart," Jane replied with unusual bluntness. "Mr Darcy was right when he told Vince to think no more of him. It was fair on neither of you to re-engage the friendship while you were a guest of the Collinses. If you had been seen by someone, in the arms of a man; so intimately in the arms of a man, it would have brought scandal on us all."

"Scandal no longer has power over me," Vince said, rather louder than he had intended, and continued in a whisper. "I thought that my... preferences, were not so distasteful to you."

Jane's countenance softened and she took her younger brother's hand.

"I am not disgusted by you, Vince. I love you deeply but fear that you will expose yourself to ridicule."

"But I do not care-"

"You say so now but if our father chose not to be understanding and cut you off from your inheritance? How would you support yourself, and Mary, if that were to happen? And you have already told us that Mr Darcy had no intention of acting upon his passions for you, at least not in any formal way."

"That is true, Vince," Mary enjoined. "I fear there is nought to be done. But I say treasure your happy memories and be thankful that you had a taste of love. It is more than many of us are granted."

"I would rather not have loved at all," Jane spoke softly. "Romantic love is a cruel emotion and we would all do better without it."

"You cannot mean that." Vince was shocked by his sister's world weariness.

"I do mean it, and I intend to put the notion of love entirely from my mind."

"But what about Mr Bingley?"

"I hope that, should I ever meet him in the future, we shall both be able to shake hands, say 'how do you do' and part as relative strangers. If I am lucky I shall find an officer who Lydia and Kitty have not already corrupted and become a wife; living according to my means and not my desires."

Mary and Vince, having nothing to say in the face of such words, remained silent and only looked to one another in dismay. They stayed thus until called for dinner and the family table was a sombre one to say the least.

"If only we could go to Brighton with the militia. The sea bathing would do my complexion the world of good, I am sure. And think of the entertainments that would be so readily found," the youngest Bennet sighed dramatically.

"Oh, shut up, Lydia," came Mary's reply, to which Vince could not help but laugh, and his father with him.


	34. Chapter 34

**More sorry.**

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine.**

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"You shall never guess what good fortune has befallen me! Guess, guess, oh do. You shall never guess. It is too wonderful. And do not think to tell me to shut up again, Mary, for I will not be silent for you. Oh, Vince will you hear my marvelous news?"

Lydia had returned from her walk to the town in spirits so high that Vince wondered if she had been at the brandy. She fairly skipped around the room, talking so fast and loud that none of her siblings could engage her in proper conversation to discover her news. It was not until Kitty entered, in a temper, that the story came out.

"Mrs Forster, the wife to the Colonel of the regiment, has invited me, and only me, to accompany her to Brighton! See hailed me in the town and said she was glad to have seen me for they are to leave soon and does so wish me to go with her as her particular friend."

"I do not see why you could not have suggested to her that I come along as well, Lydia," Kitty sulked.

"You were in at the baker's, Kitty," Lydia giggled, waving her hand in her sister's direction to dismiss her suggestion. "I am afraid I quite forgot your existence. Besides, you are not her particular friend. I am. It is only right that she should ask me alone."

Kitty huffed and sat ungracefully by the fire to dry her damp dress.

"Father shall say no, in any case, so I should not be so excited if I were you."

Vince quite agreed and went to his father directly on the matter only to be met with the very opposite of what he had been hoping for.

"Oh no, Vince. I quite intend to let her soldier forth on her little adventure."

"But father," Vince cried. "How can you? Mrs Forester is barely older than Lydia herself. They are two foolish girls who will bring nothing but ruin upon each other if allowed to do as they please without a chaperone."

Mr Bennet listened attentively before peering over his spectacles at his son.

"Lydia will never be easy until she has exposed herself in some public place or other, and we can never expect her to do it with so little expense or inconvenience to her family as under the present circumstances."

"And so she is allowed to be imprudent and unguarded while the rest of us must walk the fine line of propriety?"

"By no means, my son," Mr Bennet said with a tenderness that Vince was not accustomed to.

"You are my only son and shall inherit a tidy sum in a few years. You have more independence and freedom than you realise."

"What?" Vince asked, wondering if he were hearing his father correctly. "I do?"

"Quite. You could do anything if you truly set your mind to it. Compose music, paint a masterpiece, or simply gaze at the stars. It shall be no concern of mine."  
"Truly?"

"Yes," his father replied, his eyebrows raising as his voice returned to its usual gruffness. "My only wish is that you stop interfering with the wishes of your sisters for then your mother complains to me and I get no peace."

"Very well," Vince sighed as he stood. "I shall try, but I make you no promises. Thank you father."

He left the room in a strange mood, not entirely happy that Lydia would have her way but reassured that his father's implicit acceptance meant he would not be disowned or disinherited. Not that he would do anything public or out of character. Not without Howard anyway.


	35. Chapter 35

**Short, short chapter. Hope you enjoy it.**

**Ta-ra.**

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On the eve of Lydia's departure, Mrs Bennet had several of the officers to dine at their home one last time and, to Vince's dismay, Mr Wickham was one of them and was placed opposite Vince at the table. He watched the man as he charmed his youngest sister and his mother in a way that now seemed rehearsed and false. Vince began to engage him in conversation in order to keep him from his object, and to see whether he could make the man unsteady.

"I stayed with friends recently, Mr Wickham and had the honour of meeting some people slightly acquainted with you."

"Did you so, Mr Bennet? I am intrigued," Wickham replied with a grin that was not all together friendly.

"Yes. I had the honour of dining several times with Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her daughter, as well as her nephews Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam. I am already aware of your past acquaintance with Mr Darcy but, pray tell me, are you known also to the Colonel?"

Vince took great pleasure in watching Wickham's face as it shifted from surprised, to displeased, to alarmed; but with a moment's recollection and a returning smile he answered pleasantly, though Vince could now see the ice in his eyes quite clearly.

"I saw him often in years past but we knew each other very little. He is a very gentlemanly like man, I believe."

"Is that Colonel Fitzwilliam you speak of, gentleman?" asked Colonel Forster from down the table.

"indeed, sir," Vince replied. "I had the joy of meeting him while he visited his aunt."

"And did you not find him an exceedingly pleasing fellow?"

"I did. He was very good company and is a fierce friend with a strong right hook I am told."

Colonel Forster roared with laughter at this and nodded his head vigorously.

"He is that. Fitzwilliam is a man who will go to great lengths for his friends and, though gentle in countenance, will not back away from a fight. His right hook is one of the strongest I've seen, quite right, quite right. And are you a friend of his?"

"I am very honoured to call myself so, yes," Vince replied and had the pleasure of seeing Wickham turn pale and the other officers eye him with a new level of respect. It was all thoroughly amusing.

The conversation moved on from there but, as they all stood to leave the table Vince was surprised to see Mr Wickham at his side.

"Did you speak much with Colonel Fitzwilliam while you were there?"

"Enough," he replied shortly. Wickham nodded to himself.

"He is quite the story teller, you know." He paused, but when Vince made no response, he was forced to continue without encouragement.

"He does to like to exaggerate. I hope you took all that he told you with a pinch of salt and a ladleful of good humour?"

Vince refused to give Wickham the information he knew the man was looking for and turned instead to studying the cuffs of his sleeves.

"His manners are very different from his cousin's, don't you think?"

"I suppose," Vince responded lazily. "But I think Mr Darcy improves with acquaintance."

"Indeed?"

"Indeed, Mr Wickham. The more one knows him the more one knows that he is a man of high moral character. He is a man who can be trusted, Mr Wickham, and once one learns who can be trusted, one also learns to discern who cannot be trusted. Do you understand my meaning, Mr Wickham?"

"I believe I do, Mr Bennet."

Wickham's alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and agitated look. He bid Vince goodnight and quickly made his farewells, leaving the party early under the excuse of a headache. The rest of the guests departed an hour later and Lydia with them. She would stay the night in the town with Colonel and Mrs Forster before setting forth to Brighton with them in the morning.

As they ascended to bed that night Mary commented that the house seemed pleasantly quiet without Lydia's stomping on the stairs. She was scolded by Mrs Bennet but Vince assured her the scolding had been worth it. He in turn asked Jane if any of the officers had taken her fancy and she replied in the negative. None had a gentle enough smile nor were they slender enough or the right height or in possession of the right bone structure. In short, none of them were Mr Christopher Bingley. Vince smiled in the face of her scowl, and Mary gave a short laugh. What hopeless romantics they were.


	36. Chapter 36

**Little bit more this morning but now have to rush off. Sorry.**

**More to come tonight. Hope you have a lovely one.**

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While Vince rejoiced over Nathan Wickham's departure, he found little other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the regiment. Their parties abroad were less varied than before; and at home he had a mother and sister whose constant repinings at the dulness of every thing around them threw a real gloom over their domestic circle. Mary had become engrossed in a new subject of study and often forgot to attend meals if not reminded and led to the table by either Vince or Jane and Jane herself was in low spirits and confided to Vince that she worried that, without the regiment and no one attending the manor house, their likelihood of forming any attachments that might lead to marriage were decidedly slim.

"I shall end up a spinster at this rate, Vince," she confided morosely. "And then you shall have two sisters to provide for."

"I would not mind at all," he smiled, pulling her close enough that she could rest her head upon his shoulder as they sat together at the window seat, gazing out at the rain.

"I would only be saddened by it because I know that you wish so greatly to be married. But do not fear. We shall find you a man who is in appearance the very image of Mr Bingley and with all of his fine features of personality, but with none of his forgetfulness of spirit."  
"Do not tease me, Vince," she replied lightly. "It is not polite. If you continue I shall begin to ask you, in company, whether you ever did find Venus."

Vince chuckled but left her be.

"If you could come with the Gardiners and I to the north it would be a fine thing."

"But then who would remember to fetch Mary at meal times and instruct her to eat?"

They both laughed at that.

"I shall be fine, Vince," Jane assured him. "Some quiet will do me a great deal of good I am sure, and Mary promises to show me her books when she has made her own sense of them."

"Well, that sounds riveting."

"You are teasing again, Vince. It is not becoming."

"I am not a young lady, Jane. I do not care if my behaviour is becoming. I am not seeking to attract a young officer or rich gentleman."

"So you say."

"And now who is teasing, might I ask?"

"I am simply rehearsing for my days as a spinster ensconced in the corner of your drawing room."

They continued to watch the rain as it pounded the lawn and drummed upon the window and Vince wondered if summer would ever come, or if they were doomed to live in a world of grey and rain.

Summer did come, as summer always does, despite the inconstancy of spring, and soon enough Vince had designed and sewed himself a new wardrobe and a letter had arrived from his aunt detailing their summer excursion to the north. He began to assume his usual cheerful countenance and his father commented that it would be a shame to lose him so soon after he had recovered himself but Vince could not help but look forward to the holiday.

"You do know there is a likelihood of your seeing Mr Darcy in Yorkshire, Vince?" Jane asked as she watched him pack his clothing carefully in his trunk.

"Surely not," Vince scoffed. "Mary showed me a map of the county and it is the largest in England. We shall be miles from his estate I am sure of it and, even if we were to draw close to it, Howard... Mr Darcy, spends all of his time in London, saving the occasional visit to his aunt. We shall be quite safe."

"Do you want to be safe?" Mary asked from her position on his bed, her nose still firmly in her book.

"Do not ask such questions, Mary," Jane scolded. "It is not fair on him. Things between Vince and Mr Darcy drew to their logical conclusion and the matter was closed. They parted as acquaintances, did you not, Vince?"

"We did, and it is best to stay as such. He is preparing himself to wed Miss de Bourgh by now and I am sure I am quite forgotten."

"Find yourself a handsome poet then," Mary's voice came from behind her book. "They are more open to the possibilities of human love, I have read."

"They are also more likely to have the pox."

"What is life without risk?"

"Jane, Mary is teasing me. Tell her she must stop."

"She is rehearsing as well, for the days when we shall be your constant, spinster companions. You know that, Vince."

"Then I shall ask you to please rehearse somewhere else," Vince opened the door with mock severity and his sisters left him to pack his trunk in peace and reflect on the troubling issue of whether he should pack both pairs of black boots, or just the one pair. An hour later he decided on both.


	37. Chapter 37

**Thank you all again for the lovely reviews. They make me feel smiley.**

**Disclaimer: My knowledge of Yorkshire is limited to the stories told to me by my crazy aunt and there is no Pemberley in Yorkshire, it's just the name for Mr Darcy's estate in Jane Austen's story.**

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"Where exactly are we going, aunt?"

"Why to the town where I grew up, Vince, Dewsbury."

"And where is that?"

"Just south of Leeds."

Vince, who had been gazing out of the carriage window at the lush woodland felt suddenly perturbed. They had been traveling for over a week now with the main stay of their holiday to be in the town of his Aunt Gardiner's childhood. He had so far admired many picturesque meadowlands with countless sheep and made appropriate noises of admiration when directed to look at rivers, rocks and small hills. Somehow, he had thought that the journey would allow a little more excitement.

They had seen a shrew the day before but its small brown eyes had reminded Vince of Howard and had put him out of spirits for the rest of the day. He had been hoping for rather more breathtaking landscapes but nothing had been worth sketching so far and he could not sew in a carriage. It gave him motion sickness.

"Leeds?"

"Yes, very near the home of your friend Mr Darcy," his aunt remarked, nudging her sleeping husband to stop his snores from interrupting their conversation and waking him with a start.

"What?"

"We were wondering whether we should stop at the home of Mr Darcy, so that Vince might view the estate," she told her husband, much to Vince's horror.

"Oh, yes, it is a fine house, beautiful estate, large trout to be found in the lake I believe."

"Then it is settled!" cried Mrs Gardiner. "We are to stop at Pemberley, Mr Darcy's estate on our way to Dewsbury. Marvelous!"

"But we can't!" Vince squeaked, his voice seizing up under the anxiety of his predicament.

"Why ever not?"

"Surely it is not done to simply arrive at a gentleman's house for the purposes of taking in its views and inspecting its architecture."

"It shall be no inconvenience to anyone," his uncle sought to assure him. "These great men are never at home and their housekeepers are all well versed in the local history and architectural merits. We shall be in no one's way, Vince, you need not worry about that."

Vince gave a tight lipped smile and sank back in his seat. He did want to see Pemberley, Mr Darcy's home, the place where he had grown up and came back to and must have so many memories, both pleasant and bitter. But still he felt concerned that coming to his home, especially when he would not be there, was somehow an invasion of his privacy, and a breech of the agreement between them to keep their distance from one another. The best course of action would be to advise his aunt and uncle that he would rather not go there, that he was too keen to see Dodsbury, or Dogsbody, or Goosebury, or whatever the town's name was, but he could not seem to open his mouth and summon the words.

He had told his sisters that he would not go anywhere near Mr Darcy, that he considered himself quite forgotten and that it was best to stay as relative strangers. But he had heard it said many times that men of the world like Howard (Mr Darcy, he corrected himself), were so rarely at home that they would surely be safe from each other. And, he convinced himself, if they arrived on the estate and learned that Mr Darcy was in fact at home, they could simply leave and proceed to the boring town that was their destination.

With that settled in his mind Vince felt he could relax by a small measure. He was curious by nature and did want to see Pemberley very much, if only to aid his imaginings about what Mr Darcy was doing in his life. Upon reaching the inn at which they would stay for the night Vince enquired of a chambermaid as to whether she knew much of Pemberley and whether the family were down for the summer. A most welcome negative followed the last question; the family were not in the house and the chambermaid was sure that she could speak confidently about anything to do with Pemberley, as her mother had used to work there in the kitchens. Vince was not entirely sure of the reliability of his source but assured himself that the goings on at such a place would be common knowledge, especially in a hamlet so close by. With that, he lay down to sleep, his head full of curious thoughts of what he would see on the morrow.


	38. Chapter 38

**Monster chapter, this one, sorry.**

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Vince, as they drove along that morning, watched eagerly for the first appearance of Pemberley House and, when at long last they turned and found themselves at the end of the woods and the top of a considerable hill, his spirits were in a high flutter. His eye was instantly caught by Pemberley, situated on the opposite side of the valley, into which the road gracefully wound. It was a large, handsome, stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of woody hills. Vince was delighted. He had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. It was simple and yet grand all at once and to Vince it seemed entirely like Howard in its appearance.

They descended the hill, crossed a bridge over a very pretty stream, and drove to the door, but while examining the front aspect of the house, all of Vince's apprehensions of meeting its owner again returned. He dreaded lest the chambermaid of the inn be mistaken and began to twist a lock of hair absently between his fingers.

On applying to see the place, they were admitted to the hall and while they waited for the housekeeper, Vince had leisure to wonder at his being where he was, breathing in the air that Howard was accustomed to breathing, looking upon the paintings Howard chose to keep on the walls. He felt a shiver slide down his spine at even this most vague contact and realised sadly that he was still very much in love.

The housekeeper, when she came, was a sensible woman of middle years and was happy to show them around the main rooms, explaining paintings and sculptures as they went and allowing them time to admire the lofty ceilings and expansive windows. Vince wanted to enquire whether her master were really absent but did not want to draw attention. Thankfully his uncle asked the question for him.

"He is away at present, however," the housekeeper said, and Vince turned away in alarm, while she added: "we expect him tomorrow, with a party of friends."

Vince concentrated on regulating his breathing whilst seeming to examine a bookshelf. How fortunate that their own journey had not by any circumstance been delayed by a day!

His aunt now called him to look at a picture and he obliged. He approached and saw the likeness of Mr Nathan Wickham suspended, amongst several miniatures, over the mantlepiece. His aunt asked him if he thought it a good likeness, to which Vince agreed that it was fair, if a little forgiving. The housekeeper came forward, and told them it was the picture of a young gentleman who had once been a friend to the family.

"He is now gone into the army," she added. "But I am afraid he has turned out very wild."

"So I heard," Vince replied solemnly.

"And that," the housekeeper continued, pointing to another of the miniatures, "is my master, and very like him, too. It was drawn at the same time as the other, when he was but fifteen."

"I have heard much of your master's fine person," said Mrs Gardiner, looking at the picture. "I was acquainted with him when he was a boy and he appears to have turned out very fine. It is a handsome face."

The housekeeper replied but Vince did not hear any more of the conversation. His breath had been stolen by the portrait. Howard's fifteen-year-old self was sweet beyond measure. His eyes held a trust that was certainly not present in his person now, and a youthful awkwardness that Vince found endearing. He wished he could pluck the young man from the picture and hold him tight, assure him that life would not be as cruel as he might imagine, and to tell him not to lose the hope in his brown eyes.

"Vince?" his aunt recalled him to himself with her question. "Has he changed greatly since the miniature was painted?"

The housekeeper's respect for Vince seemed to increase on this intimation of him knowing her master.

"Does the young man know Mr Darcy?"

Vince coloured.

"A little," he said.

"And do not you think him the very picture of what a gentleman should be?"

"Yes, he is very handsome," Vince managed to respond as his voice turned decidedly husky in tone.

"I am sure I know none so handsome," the housekeeper continued without seeming to notice Vince's reaction. "But in the gallery upstairs you will see a finer, larger picture of him. This room was my late master's favourite room, and these miniatures are just as they used to be then. He was very fond of them."

This accounted to Vince for Mr WIckham's being among them. The housekeeper then directed their attention to one of Mr Michael Darcy, Mr Darcy's younger brother, drawn when we was only five years old.

"What a charming little fellow, he looked," Mrs Gardiner exclaimed. "And is this young Mr Darcy as handsome and tall as his brother?"

"Oh, he is quite handsome, though not quite so tall. He is a keen horseman and delights greatly in music and in art. In the next room is a new instrument just come up for him from Town, a present from my master who has decided that it would be quite negligent to let his brother and charge neglect his musical talent. Mr Michael Darcy comes here tomorrow with the party and we shall all be most pleased to have him home."

Mrs Gardiner, whose manners were easy and pleasant, encouraged her communicativeness by her questions and remarks and the housekeeper, either from pride or attachment, Vince thought both, took evident pleasure in talking of her master and his young brother. Vince listened to their discussion as he stared once again at the small portrait of Howard Darcy and wished he could have known him longer and better.

"Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?"

"Not as much as I could wish for, ma'am; but I dare say that he may spend half his time here, and Mr Michael Darcy is always here for the summer months."

"If your master would marry, you might see more of him."

"Yes, indeed, but I do not know when that will be. I do not know who is good enough for him."

Vince smiled at that and decided that he quite liked the housekeeper, who seemed to be of a similar opinion to himself. He could not think of a single person worthy of Howard's affection.

"But surely his marriage is imminent," his aunt continued. "I heard that he was engaged, or at the least betrothed?"

"He was, certainly," the housekeeper nodded but seemed unwilling to say too much. "It is no longer considered such a settled matter. I am not privy to all of the details in this and would not wish to give out information that could lead to gossip."

"Oh, of course. You are to be greatly commended on that," Mrs Gardiner reassured and the housekeeper smiled at the compliment.

"I take it from your loyalty that he is a pleasant master, then?"

"He is truly, a most wonderful master to work for. I have never heard a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him since he was four years old. He is a most sensitive soul but not a man of many words or boasts. Some call him proud but I assure you it is only natural reserve that makes him seem so. He is kind to his tenants and the poor in the town. Those he chooses to call friend are very much honoured."

Vince nodded to himself, his heart beginning to be overwhelmed by feeling. The desire to see Mr Darcy was becoming painful and he hoped that once the viewing of the house was done they would journey quickly on to Dewsbury and avoid any possibility of meeting his party on the road.

When all of the house that was open to general inspection had been seen, they returned down stairs, and taking leave of the housekeeper, were consigned over to the head gardener, who met them at the hall door. As they walked across the lawn towards the river, Vince turned back to look again; his uncle and aunt stopping also, and while they conjectured as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself suddenly came forward from the road which led behind the stables.

They were within twenty yards of each other, and so abrupt was his appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight.

"Howard?"

Their eyes met instantly, and the cheeks of each were overspread with the deepest blush. Howard absolutely stared, and for a moment seemed immoveable from surprise; but shorty recovered himself and advanced toward the party.

"Mr Bennet."

"Mr Darcy."

They stood in silence, each searching within their heads for something courteous and lighthearted to say.

"Might I have the pleasure to be introduced to your companions, Mr Bennet?"

"Yes, of course," Vince rushed, turning his eyes away from Howard and shuffling his feet nervously on the lawn. "Mr Darcy, this is my uncle and aunt, Mr and Mrs Gardiner. Aunt, uncle, this is Mr Darcy. The master of Pemberley House."

"How do you do?" his uncle stepped forward, holding out his hand for Mr Darcy to shake, which he did, returning the welcome with little smoothness.

"Have you been in the area long?"

"No, we are but passing through on our way to Dewsbury and had a sudden thought to show my nephew, Vince, this wonderful house. He was a little acquainted with you over the winter, we understand, and my wife and I thought he might appreciate your most delightful estate."

"You are most welcome, of course," Howard nodded, looking down at his own feet in a mirror of Vince's own action.

"We were told you were not expected until tomorrow," his aunt offered and Howard nodded and replied without looking up.

"Yes, I came a day early, to see that a gift I had acquired for my brother had arrived safely and to go through with my staff what would be needed for our guests."

"We shall take our leave from your property then," Mr Gardiner enquired.

"Not at all," Howard replied hastily. "The grounds are well worth seeing and you have an excellent guide with you. I shall take my leave of you. Good day."

He made a short bow and Vince and his uncle did likewise, his aunt giving a curtsy deeper than strictly necessary.

The small group made their way around the grounds but Vince hardly saw where they went, stumbling several times when they entered the woods. He felt he should congratulate himself on having met with Mr Darcy and having maintained a facade of indifference, such as they had been able. With time, he felt, they would be able to meet and show nothing for one another. And just now he was pleased that they had need to walk in single file so that none could see the emotions flitting across his face. He longed to explore the entire park but, when they had crossed the bridge, and perceived their distance from the house, Mrs Gardiner could go no farther, and thought only of returning to their carriage and the waiting inn.

As they returned to the main walk and came within distance of the house, Vince blanched when he caught sight of Howard standing near their carriage, dressed in fresh attire and having apparently combed his hair. He had hoped that they might slip away unnoticed and seeing the man dressed so delightfully was just too much for him and he stumbled once more and fell to the ground. Howard was at his side in an instant. Mr and Mrs Gardiner were still some distance behind, having stopped to allow Mrs Gardiner to rest, and Vince realised that he and Howard were quite alone.

"Do not try to stand," Howard murmured. "If you have hurt an ankle standing will only injure it further."

"Thank you Mr Darcy, but I am not a weak young lady, prone to twisted ankles and swoons."

"I apologise, Mr Bennet," Howard said, still with his eyes averted but a slight smile on his lips. "You had me quite fooled."

Vince wanted to smile in return but would not permit himself. It would lead too easily to further expression of his feelings.

"I must offer my apologies for our being here, Mr Darcy," he said, plucking at the blades of grass around him. "We were assured by several people that you would not be at home and that you were rarely seen at Pemberley in any case."

"It is no inconvenience at all, Mr Bennet. I have not been much at home this last year but intend to spend more time here in future, and as I remarked earlier, I came home a day early and quite unexpectedly. You should have seen my housekeeper's face. It was quite the sight."

Vince did chuckle at that.

"You must treat your housekeeper well, Mr Darcy. She spoke very highly of you."

"Did she?"  
"Of course, and assured me that you were not to be married at any time soon, as there is no woman she has heard of who is worthy of you."

"She is a kind woman and was very much the mother figure for my younger brother."

"We heard much of him as well," Vince said, beginning to feel comfortable in the conversation, even if it was quite odd to be so seated on the grass with another man, especially one he had decided to avoid.

"Are you really not to be married?"

"The news of your sister's decision has spread like wildfire," he said jokingly and Vince chuckled again.

"But, in truth, it was not so much my decision to not marry Miss de Bourgh as it was her decision to marry another. Lady Catherine is still very much against the match and seeks to lay the blame for the situation at the feet of whoever she shall be able to bully most successfully."

"How horrid for you."

Howard shrugged and Vince endeavored to slide a little closer to his side across the lawn without further ruining his breeches with grass stains.

"If I were not such a coward I might have stayed to see it out, but as it is I have gathered a number of companions and fled to my country residence. And now our party is complete."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You shall stay a day or two before heading on to Dewsbury, surely, Vince?"

"I do not think so Mr Darcy. I do not think it would be pertinent to delay our journey here."

"But among my party are them who will claim acquaintance with you and wish to see you."

"I can think of none in our intimate circle who would make such an assertion, Mr Darcy."

"Not even Mr Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam?"  
Vince was torn but he knew that it was foolishness to continue in Howard's company. He moved to pluck another blade of grass and his hand instead brushed against that of the other man. He jumped violently and pulled himself quickly to his feet, just as his aunt and uncle approached. Howard stood more carefully and when he did so, placed himself still close enough to Vince that they could feel the heat radiating from one another's bodies.

"There is another who would very much like to make your acquaintance, Mr Bennet," he said with apparent casualness.

"My younger brother, Michael, has been told much about your love of music and good humour and has made it known that he would like to meet you at my earliest convenience. Surely now is a most convenient time, if your aunt and uncle can spare a day or two."

Mr Gardiner assured Howard that there was no rush for Vince to move on at all and that if Vince wished to stay on and see his friends it could be accommodated. Vince's stomach seemed leaden. It was quickly agreed and, to make the engagement more assured, Howard offered the use of his rods to Mr Gardiner and invited him to spend the day after next fishing at his very over-stocked trout pond.

With the arrangements made they made their polite goodbyes and entered their carriage. As they departed Vince watched as Howard walked slowly toward the house, his hair already tousled out of its style by the wind and his shoulders tight within his brown coat. He had no right to still be so very attractive, Vince thought, feeling exceedingly ill. It was unpleasant enough to be in love, without the object of the affection displaying himself so fetchingly.

They drove back to the inn where it was decided that Mr Gardiner would escort his wife to her sister's house in Dewsbury the next day and then return to fish at Pemberley and collect Vince in good time. They said goodnight and then, despite his knowledge that the action was a little silly, Vince climbed into bed with his hairbrush in hand. Both to remind him that he should not be thinking of Howard and to console himself that at least his doomed affection was not one-sided.


	39. Chapter 39

**Enter Mr Michael Darcy! I don't own him but I wish I did.**

Vince regretted, as he always did, sleeping with his hairbrush in the bed, when he awoke to a collection of red puncture marks on his chest. He immediately took the brush to his hair instead until he deemed it thoroughly tamed. He chose his attire with equal care, deciding on a coat and waistcoat in peacock blue, breeches in a paler shade of blue and his silver-buckled black boots. Howard had several times remarked on his blue eyes and Vince knew they were an attractive feature and he decided that, if he were to come face to face with a party of Howard Darcy's equals and friends he would do well to look his absolute best.

He was unprepared for the open chaise that arrived to take him to Pemberley House but enjoyed the ride thoroughly, though it was a task to keep his hair in place, even with a hat on.

He was welcomed into the house by Howard himself who seemed oblivious of Vince's inner desire to either faint or lose his breakfast over his boots and took him directly to a delightful sitting room he had not seen the day before before, turning to him with readable excitement and nerves.

"Vince," he began, before blushing and stammering an apology. "I am sorry, I meant to say; my dear Mr Bennet. It gives me pleasure to introduce you to my younger brother, Mr Michael Darcy."

Vince looked to his left and right but saw no one until a voice from behind Howard alerted him to the whereabouts of the younger Mr Darcy.

"Why can you not call him Vince?"

Howard startled so greatly that he squealed and seemed about to vomit up his heart and his younger brother, when he appeared, snickered quietly at the action.

"I hope that I shall be able to call you Vince, Mr Bennet, once we are acquainted. I have heard a great deal about you and hope we shall be fast friends."

Vince took in the sight of the young man and couldn't help but smile warmly at what he saw. Michael Darcy spoke with a slight lisp but it seemed to only add to his charm. He was short where Howard was tall and his hair was dark where Howard's was decidedly more honey in colour. They both had brown eyes but Michael's were large and mischievous. They were as different as two brothers could be, except, Vince noted, for their moustaches.

A moustache on so diminutive a man should have looked ridiculous, Vince thought, and yet it looked perfectly in place on Michael Darcy. Vince even felt a short-lived pang of jealousy that a man several years his junior could grow proper facial hair when he could not but supposed it ran in his family to be able to do so.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Darcy," he said holding out his hand for the young man to shake, which he did with enthusiasm.

"You must call me Michael," he said with a seriousness which was tempered by his twinkling eyes.  
"Of course, Michael, I quite forgot myself. And you will call me Vince, obviously."

Michael smiled beneath his moustache and nodded.

"Come and see my new piano, Vince," he lisped, walking toward the instrument in the centre of the room. "My brother has proclaimed that I must practice more so that my talent does not go to waste."

"Your brother speaks wisely in this and you are lucky to have such a fine instrument to practice upon."

"I know," Michael replied. "He also tells me that you are a master of the instrument and play better than anyone he has known."

Vince laughed and noted that Howard had turned toward the window to avoid his gaze.

"Your brother is prone to exaggeration."

"Howard? He never exaggerates," Michael said, his brow creased in confusion. "He is too boring to exaggerate. It is my fate to have only one brother and for him to be completely lacking in imagination."

"You are too harsh, Michael," he scolded lightly as he moved around the instrument and sat down before it. "Be thankful you have a brother. I always wished for one but was blessed with four sisters instead."

"At least you were not lonely."

In the short silence that followed Howard turned to see the concern on Vince's face and the frown on his brother's.

"It is a wretched thing to be lonely, I agree, Mr Darcy," Vince said after a pause and Michael shook himself free of his sour mood and smiled.

"I shall simply take you as my brother, Vince. I think you shall make a fine addition to our small family circle. And now you must play for us, so that I might hear what this beautiful instrument is capable of."

Vince laughingly obliged and began to play, admitting to himself that the idea of having Michael as his brother pleased him greatly. It was only when Howard strode over to stand by his brother at the piano that Vince realised he was playing the tune of 'Bright Blue Eyes' that Howard had gifted him so many months before. Howard was playing with the hem of his waistcoat nervously and his eyes were so heavy with emotion that Vince could not discern just one emotion from the many he saw dancing in the other man's eyes. He clenched his jaw and fought down his unease and continued to play until the door to the sitting room opened to admit Mr Bingley and his sister. Miss Bingley did not look pleased to see him but Bingley's grin was broad and he strode over quickly to join the group at the piano.

"Vince, it is an unexpected joy to find you here!"

"An unexpected joy for both of us, Mr Bingley," Vince replied. "How do you do?"

"You are so very much like Howard, Vince," Michael interrupted to the astonishment of all.

"In what possible way, brother?" Howard questioned gruffly.

"You are both insistent on using formal titles, even when you are reminded to do otherwise and are among friends, surely Vince, you call him Christopher, and not Mr Bingley? Titles are so bothersome, don't you find?"

"You should not reprimand Mr Bennet so, Michael-"

"You spoke of Vince as your friend to me, Howard, so why do you insist on calling him Mr Bennet?"

Howard looked severely embarrassed by his brother's words and Miss Bingley was sneering openly. Vince decided that the best thing to do in such a situation was to smile and so he did and was rewarded with a small grin from Howard as well.

"We have not seen each other for some time, Michael," he said lightly. "And you are quite right, we are both forgetful and rather old fashioned in the way we interact. I assure you, it is not from lack of enjoyment of each other's company. When alone Howard and I have been known to converse at length with great ease. Our reticence is but shyness and absence; like two small boys hiding behind the curtains from one another when in truth they are the best of friends. I shall try to remember to call him Howard while I am here."

Michael seemed very pleased at this announcement, as did Christopher, but what really pleased Vince was the scowl that marred Miss Bingley's elegant features. The party grew larger, as each of Howard's company descended upon the sitting room, until there were nine people in total, and among their number Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss de Bourgh, a fact which caused Vince a great deal of surprise. They all spoke amiably and Vince was happy to play quietly for them all until the midday meal was announced. The two Mr Darcy's led the way and Vince lingered until he could follow at the end of the group, only to find himself intercepted by Christopher.

"It is wonderful to see you, Vince," he spoke with his usual quiet friendliness.

"And you," Vince replied, but with a small measure of reservation. "We have not seen each other in several months."

"Eight months, in fact," Christopher agreed. "I last saw you, and your sisters, on November twenty-sixth, at the ball I held."

Vince raised his eyebrows at how exactly Bingley remembered the date of their last meeting, which was also the date he had last seen Jane. He wanted to ask him whether he had known of Jane's presence in London over the winter but did not mention it. Despite Michael's insistence that he was among friends, and despite the fact that Vince did very much like Christopher Bingley, he could not bring himself to feel entirely at ease. At least not enough to bring up a matter that might cause embarrassment for both of them and disappointment for himself.

"It has been a very long time, to be sure," he settled to say. Bingley nodded seriously and Vince wondered whether his thoughts had also turned to Jane, and his less than perfect treatment of her. They continued on to the dinning room in silence and Vince happily took the seat to Michael Darcy's right, where, he was informed, he was to stay.

"For you are by far the most interesting person ever to enter this house, Vince, and I need to learn to be just like you."

Vince felt, somehow, that watching Howard choke on his soup made the whole uncomfortable affair worth it.


	40. Chapter 40

**A big thank you once again for the reviews from people, they are very lovely.**

**It's about to get sad again, with another monster of a chapter. Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or plot. I wish I did. That said, this bit never happened in the book.**

* * *

The meal passed in good cheer and Vince enjoyed his observations of the group even though he still felt quite out of sorts and said little himself. Those of the party he did not know were a brother and sister of a very bookish nature who seemed mostly interested in some exotic irises to be found on the Pemberley estate, by the name of Mr and Miss Tyler. They spoke of little else and mostly to each other. Howard seemed to regard them with indulgent fondness and Vince realised that he had never seen the man look so very relaxed and comfortable. If it had not been for the sharp remarks which were issued occasionally from Miss Bingley, it would have been entirely comfortable and Vince was very nearly grateful for her presence as it kept him from being lulled into a false sense of safety. He could not forget what had passed between him and Howard, and the decision to treat one another with some distance, as mere acquaintances. Even if Howard was no longer betrothed, it did not follow that he would be willing to act upon his feelings for Vince in any meaningful way, if indeed, his feelings were unaltered since their last meeting.

These thoughts led him quite naturally to a study of Miss de Bourgh. The last time he had seen her she had been sickly looking and withdrawn and, while she was still thin and pale, her spirits were quite transformed. She laughed and joked and conversed most gayly, especially with her cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Vince could not help but remark upon it.

"Your health seems quite improved, Miss Catherine."

"I suppose so," she responded in her delicate voice. "It is amazing what admitting one's true feelings can do for one's constitution."

"Is that so?" he asked, looking from the lady to Colonel Fitzwilliam and back again several times before the truth of the situation became clear to him.

"Oh!" he cried. "Are congratulations in order, my dear Fitzwilliam? What day do you go to church?"

Fitzwilliam laughed heartily and then delicately, as if he handled a most precious artifact, took Miss Catherine de Bourgh's hand.

"We hope to go to church as soon as practical but would much rather that the Lady Catherine was able to give her blessing on the union and so we are waiting, hidden here like merry men to Howard's Robin Hood, until the great Lady has calmed herself down and become accustomed to the idea."

"You have the blessing of every person here, for what it is worth," Howard told them with genuine feeling and Bingley seconded the motion.

"I do fear, however," Howard continued, "that you could be waiting some time. Our aunt, your mother," he nodded to Catherine, "is not known for her flexibility, especially in matters she thought she had complete control over."

There was a general nodding around the table at this statement and Vince stayed silent, despite his ardent curiosity.

After lunch it was decided to take a turn about the garden. Michael was keen to see the horses which had been left behind during their time in London and so they made their leisurely way in that direction. Despite his wishes, Vince did not attempt to walk beside Howard, who was busy pointing out the likely corners of the grounds that irises might hide to his two odd guests, and so he found himself, once more, in the company of Bingley.

"Have you been well since I saw you last, Vince?"

"I have been tolerably well, thank you."

"And your sisters?"

Vince glanced at the other man and saw that there was a measure of anxiety on his slender features.

"I have four sisters, if you recall, Christopher. Would you like me to relate the health of each of them, or one in particular?"

The hint was taken and, with a quick nod and a creasing of his brows, the real question was asked.

"How is your sister, Jane? Is she well?"

"Not particularly."

"I thought not," Christopher sighed and this time it was Vince's turn to furrow his brow. Surely Christopher had not been aware that Jane had been in London. Surely, Vince wished, he had not so deliberately snubbed her.

"I heard, you know," Bingley continued. "Many of us did, that she was proposed to by some inferior man and did not just refuse him but declared she would take no husband at all."

At hearing this Vince found that he had stopped walking entirely and he turned to face his friend, holding his arm gently to keep him close enough to hear what he now saw was very important news of his sisters.

"You heard that Jane had vowed never to marry?"

"We heard that Miss Bennet had made such a vow and my sister certified it, from a letter she said she had received to the point."

Vince turned his eyes to Miss Bingley, who had caught wind of their conversation and had veered swiftly toward the stables to escape the wrath she surely knew was heading toward her in Vince's eyes.

"I must remind you again that I have four sisters, Bingley. Titles are troublesome, as young Michael asserted and in this case they have done us all a great disservice. My sister _Miss Mary Bennet_ was proposed to, by Mr Collins no less, and she has vowed never to take a husband. Her reasons had little to do with Mr Collins himself, as distasteful as he is generally considered, and more to do with her natural inclinations."

"I beg your pardon?" Christopher now seemed confused and Vince was not entirely sure which part of the narrative was giving him trouble.

"Her inclinations? Hers, like mine, are not generally considered normal or acceptable in polite society. It is easier for both of us to simply refuse to marry and proclaim a wish to remain unattached. It is the best we can hope for."

"Oh," Bingley said softly, colouring slightly as the meaning became clear. "And Jane, therefore..."

"Jane has written to your sister only thrice in the last eight months, Christopher," Vince said, hearing the emotion begin to assert itself in his voice.

"One of those letters was written while she was staying in London over the winter, with our aunt and uncle. She had hoped to see you but was told by your sister that you were busy. When she failed to hear from you or your sister..." Vince's voice trailed away.

"She thought that I had rejected her?"

"I believe so. I brought her home from London a much less hopeful young woman."

"Whilst I at the same time was under the mistaken impression that she had no real interest in my person or my suit."

"It seems so, yes."

"Because my sister so thoroughly interfered with my happiness and my understanding!" Bingley was angry now, his pale cheeks turning a violent shade of red and his lips disappearing into a thin line.

"Bingley?"

"Excuse me, Vince. I must... make haste to make some enquiries of my sister."

Without waiting for a reply, Bingley stalked off in the direction of the stables where Miss Bingley and Michael had already begun to inspect the horses. A few seconds later Michael came hurrying from the building, his eyes wide with surprise and glee.

"I think perhaps we should avoid the stables for a short period," he said, his grin peaking out from behind his moustache.

"Whatever is the matter?" Howard asked, moving toward the stable in concern.

"I believe," Vince said carefully, "that Christopher is asking his sister why she chose to tell him untruths concerning my sister, Jane."

"Untruths?"

"Yes, Mr Darcy," Vince sighed.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that she lied. She told her brother that Jane felt nothing for him when she has been in love with him for almost a year. She failed to inform her brother that Jane was in London despite Jane calling upon her. She claimed to receive letters from my sister that were never written and seems to have told many people that Jane means to never marry."

Vince tried to maintain his anger but found it near impossible in light of Howard's expression, which was adorably confused.

"But," he began, shifting his feet nervously and glancing warningly at his younger brother, who stood with his arms crossed and a nonchalant smirk upon his face.

"But did you not say yourself that Jane had sworn never to marry?"

"No."

Vince fought the urge to storm away from the scene in a dramatic fashion. Such an act would prove futile as he had exactly no where to storm to and was completely at the Darcys' mercy with regard to his transport back to the inn.

"I said that my sister had sworn never to marry. I meant Mary."

"Oh," Howard mumbled. "Why would she do such a thing?"

"Must I go through this again?" cried Vince. "She does not wish to marry because she has no interest in being a wife. She prefers the company of women."

Vince waited for the pieces of the puzzle to fit together within Howard's mind but he continued to look bemused and Vince barely restrained the urge to scream at his host, which he felt sure would be considered rude.

"Just as I have no interest in being a husband, and prefer the company of men. Please tell me I have made myself plain enough, Howard or I shall do something regrettable."

"Oh," Howard murmured. "Oh! I see."

He glanced at Michael, straightening his already straight coat and blushing red enough to rival a soldier's jacket.

"And all this time Bingley was led to believe..."

"I fear so."

"How utterly miserable for them both."

Vince nodded gravely.

"I only hope there is still enough affection between them to mend what should have been an uncomplicated romance."

"Vince..."

Hearing his name, so laden with emotion proved too much of a burden upon Vince's heart and mind. Howard took a step toward him, arms outstretched as if to comfort but Vince took a step back and maintained the distance between them. He knew he would not be able to maintain his composure if he were within distance of Howard's embrace and he desperately needed to maintain his slipping indifference. Vince wanted so strongly to be held, comforted, loved by Howard, that he worried that his body's trembling would be visible to all. What made the whole situation worse was that they were not alone. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss de Bourgh, as well Mr and Miss Tyler were now watching them with concern and Vince struggled to control his breathing before he fell into a faint.

"Vince?"

And something within him snapped in two, a tear trickling slowly over his cheekbone.

"I am sorry, Howard," he whispered.

"Whatever for?"

"I thought we could do this, meet as friends this way, but we simply cannot. It is too painful. Being with you but unable to be with you, it is the sweetest torture I know of but my sister Jane was right. It is eating my heart and soon I shall be no more than a shell."

"I do not understand," Howard whispered and stepped forward again. Vince felt that he could not bring himself to step away anymore.

"You told me that you felt something for me but that we cannot be together and I resigned myself to that. Then I saw you again and you made further declaration of those sentiments, that you loved me but that you could not be with me. Once again, I made my unhappy peace with this and attempted to do as you wished, even to the point of meeting you again as a quite indifferent acquaintance. But it was hard, Howard, do not doubt that. And now," he sobbed, "I do not know what your feelings and intentions are. I feel... I feel like a small child bounced about, passed from uncle to aunt to cousin without knowing where safety lies or when I shall be able to be at my ease. I cannot carry on like this."

"But, Vince, I-"

"No!" Vince interrupted, not wanting to hear what Howard would say to counter his words, especially not in front of an audience.

"No. You must release me, Howard. It was my own fault that I gave in to curiosity and came here but you should not have invited me here today. It was not right. You must let me go. I cannot deal with your tenderness and your distance all at once. I shall drown in it. Either that or in my own tears, I do not know."

Not a word was spoken from any other member of their party and Vine could not look at any of them for shame. He walked unsteadily past Howard and his brother and away from the group, away from the house, away from Pemberley and friendship and love. He could barely see the path for the tears that were now streaming from his eyes and over his cheeks.

He did not know how he came to return to the inn, only that it was approaching dark when he did so. His feet were sore and his stockings had worn out at the heel and the chambermaid, upon seeing him, took pity and fetched him a basin of warm water to rest his feet and a cloth and water for his face. She assumed he had fallen from his horse and Vince let her believe so. His clothing was stained and his hands were scratched from his countless tumbles during his journey. He washed his face and bathed his feet and left his once beautiful blue clothes in a heap on the floor. He felt sure that even if they could be mended he would not wish to wear them again.

Crawling wearily into bed, Vince felt a fresh wave of tears overwhelm him. He was not entirely sure where his outburst had come from, if he was honest, only that being in the presence of Howard had hurt too much, that the treatment of Jane had been too unfair, and that admitting what he was - what Howard had once called sinful and sordid - in front of people he had hoped to be liked by...

It had overwhelmed him quite completely. He pressed his face into his pillow as the sobs shook his slight frame, hoping that he would not be sick over the bedclothes, sure that he had never been so miserable in his life.

When a letter arrived with his uncle the next morning, he realised he had been mistaken.


	41. Chapter 41

**Another long one, sorry. And not a very happy one either. But it will get better, promise.**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned these characters but I just don't.**

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A letter from his sister, Jane should have been a balm to Vince's bruised heart, however, when Mr Gardiner arrived early the next morning with such a letter, the effect was quite the opposite.

"Good gracious, lad!" Mr Gardiner greeted him when Vince admitted him to his room. "You look a state!"

A glance in the mirror told Vince that his uncle did not exaggerate, he did indeed look as if he had slept the night in a hedge rather than in a bed.

"I did not expect you so early, uncle," he replied hoarsely, his voice still raw from the night's misery.

"I did not expect to come so early, but some letters were waiting for us when I reached Dewsbury. Once from Mary to my wife and I, and one from Jane, addressed to you. They tell much the same news, I expect, and that news is most distressing."

With that he thrust the letter into Vince's hand and began to pace the room. The letter was creased and the writing a little smudged from his uncle's hand as if it had been much handled since its delivery. The writing too, was out of the ordinary. Vince could recognise Jane's hand but there was none of its usual elegance and care. He read the lines within with trepidation and eventually sat heavily on the bed in shock at what he read.

"My dear Vince,

I hardly know what to write, but I have bad news for you, and it cannot be delayed. What I have to say relates to Lydia and you are proved right in your surmise that no good would come of her going off to Brighton in only the care of a silly woman and too many soldiers. An express came at twelve last night, just as we were all gone to bed, from Colonel Forster, to inform us that she was gone off to Scotland with one of his officers; to own the truth, with Wickham! To Kitty it does not seem so wholly unexpected and my father has pressed her greatly on this point but she has little information to offer.

It is such a sorry, sorry state of affairs. So imprudent a match on both sides! But at first we did hope for the best. Thoughtless and indiscreet as their elopement was, we hoped that it came from sincere attachment, as he must know that Father could give them little. They were off on Saturday night about twelve, as is conjectured, but were not missed till the next morning at eight. The express was sent off directly.

Lydia left a few lines to Mrs Forster, informing her of their intention and for a few hours our mother actually rejoiced that she might have a daughter married, even if the circumstances were far from satisfactory. Tragically though, Vince, the tale only gets worse.

Though Lydia's short letter to her friend gave us all to understand that they were gone to Gretna Green, something was dropped by Mr Jonathan that Wickham never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all. We received further word, mere hours later, that Colonel Forster had set out from Brighton to trace their route. They were traced as far as Clapham, heading toward London but nothing had been heard of them since.

With great concern he came here and broke his apprehensions to us in a manner most creditable to him. I am sincerely grieved for him and Mrs Forster, but no one can throw any blame on them. Our distress, dear Vince, is very great. My father and mother believe the worst, and Mary and I begin to as well. We cannot think what would possess Wickham to do this, or what his goal might be if he does not wish to marry Lydia. My poor mother is seeming ill and keeps to her room and as for our father, I never in my life saw him so affected. I am truly glad, Vince, that you have been spared something of these distressing scenes; but now, as the first shock is over, I long for your return.

I am not so selfish, however, as to press for it, if inconvenient. You hoped to have an enjoyable holiday and I would not wish to remove you from it. It would be of great comfort, however, to have you here. Our father is going to London with Colonel Forster instantly, to try and discover Lydia and your presence in our father's stead would give us a much needed security. I fear too that our father, who is little acquainted with London, shall become distressed at the magnitude of his task. The Colonel is obliged to return to his regiment in a day or so and will not be able to continue the search. Mary feels as I do and is now writing to our uncle Gardiner to request his support. I pray you shall accompany him if he is to make his way back to London and that we shall see you sooner rather than later.

I hope this whole sorry business might be resolved with satisfaction but hope is slipping.

Your sister,

Jane."

"Uncle?"

Vince looked up from the letter but his room was empty, his uncle having left the room without his noticing at some point.

"Oh! Where is my uncle?" Vince called in a strangled voice.

He hastily dressed, not caring what he put on, only that he was decent enough to go downstairs as swiftly as possible. Grasping the letter he rushed from the room and down to the inn's parlour, only to run forcibly into Mr Howard Darcy.

"Vince, what is-"

"I need to find my uncle!"

"Good God! What is the matter?" he cried, before recollecting himself. "Is this because... Did I cause..."

He did not know what Howard was doing at the inn and had no time to re-enter the distress of the day before so it was with a measure of abandon that he replied.

"I cried for you yesterday, Mr Darcy. Today's affliction is of quite a separate nature I assure you. Now I really must find my uncle."

"But you do not look well," Howard stuttered. "Please take a seat and I shall send someone to fetch him. You cannot go yourself."

Vince hesitated, but his knees trembled under him, and the desperate ill feeling had returned to his stomach. He allowed himself to be guided to a seat, thankful that the parlour was empty at such an early hour, and listened vaguely as Howard directed a servant to find Mr Gardiner and bring him to the parlour immediately. That done he returned to Vince's side but knew not what to do. He was in no way used to comforting others and was not even sure if his touch would be welcomed. He hovered around the younger man for some minutes before he realised that his actions, to anyone who entered the room, would look very odd indeed. Trying to remain outwardly calm, he took a seat beside Vince who, at that moment, was staring at the floorboards with a grimness which was greatly disturbing.

"Can I... Shall I fetch you some wine?"

"No."

"You look very ill."

"Thank you, there is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well. I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from home."

Vince was struggling to keep his tears at bay, Howard could see, and when he gingerly put a hand on the younger man's shoulder, the dam of his misery broke and the tears flowed. Howard, in wretched suspense, could only say something indistinct of his concern, and observe him in compassionate silence until, at length, he was able to speak again.

"I am so sorry. I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from any one. My youngest sister, Lydia, has left her friends - has eloped! - has thrown herself into the power of, of Mr Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton and no one knows where they are to be found. You know him too well to doubt that this can lead anywhere but misery. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to... end this honourably. He either means to use this against our family or in some petty revenge against you and I. I fear she is lost forever!"

Howard was fixed in astonishment.

"I am grieved, indeed," he spoke softly. "Grieved. Shocked."

"I should have prevented it. I knew what he was but did not want to reveal it to others because to do so would be to reveal something of your own history and I did not want to cause you any discomfort. You asked me to keep your secrets for you and I-"

He could speak no more.

"But is it certain, absolutely certain?"

"Yes," Vince choked out the word. "They left Brighton and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to Scotland but none have seen or heard of them."

"And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?"

"My father is gone to London, and Mary has written to my uncle, to beg his immediate assistance, and we shall be off soon, I hope, if I can but find him. I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. But I need to be home with my mother and sisters, they need me. Oh, it is horrible!"

Howard shook his head in silent acquiescence.

"When my eyes were opened to his real character...Had I known what I ought, what I dared, to do! But I knew not... I was afraid of doing too much. I was a coward. It was a wretched, wretched mistake."

He stood and began to walk up and down the room in earnest thought; his brow contracted, his air gloomy. Vince soon observed and thought he understood it. They were all lost now. Everything must sink under such a proof of family weakness, such an assurance of the deepest disgrace. Bingley would not dare to court Jane now. His own plight was already lost but this simply ensured that Howard would have nothing to do with him. Only hours ago he had wanted desperately for Howard to be removed from his life but now, when he realised that it would be so - for Howard would surely seek to separate himself entirely from such a scandal - he felt that it would be his end. The man certainly had no right to look so dashing as he stalked about the room but Vince could not stop the flutter in his heart at the sight of his former friend in such a passion.

When Mr Gardiner entered the room Howard took the opportunity to flee, barely looking at Vince as he expressed his concern at the unhappy turn of events. Mr Gardiner thanked him and sent Vince immediately to pack and be ready in half an hour. Vince did so and soon found himself moving hastily back toward London with barely room in his mind for thoughts of Howard Darcy. Though the other man's thoughts were quite filled with him.


	42. Chapter 42

**Teeny tiny chapter. Just a preparation for the chapters to come, I suppose.**

**Hope you're all having a lovely day. The feedback I've received on this story has been really lovely and really helpful so thanks again.**

**Ta-ra.**

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Vince and his uncle travelled swiftly down to London and, after one night's stay there, Vince journeyed on to his home. He was wearied when he finally arrived and wearied further by the sight of Jane's pale face.

"Have you heard any word on the fugitives?"

"Not yet," replied Jane. "But now that our dear uncle is come, I hope every thing will be well."

"My father was out when I stayed briefly in London, and I did not get a chance to hear his own account. Have you heard from him often?"

"We have heard once or twice," Jane said, leading him to the sitting room and pressing him into a chair. Mary appeared at the door and before long Vince had a cup of tea pressed into his hands and his two sisters settled on either side of him.

"He wrote once on Wednesday," Mary informed him. "To say that he was arrived safely. He merely added that he should not write again until he had something of importance to mention."

Vince nodded, holding his tea in shaking fingers.

"And our mother, how is she? How are you all?"

"Mother is tolerably well, though her spirits are greatly shaken. She is upstairs and will have great satisfaction in seeing you. She does not leave her room but that is perhaps, for the best at present. Kitty is quite well, if rather sullen over the whole affair."

"But you two, how are you?" cried Vince. "You both look so pale. How much you must have gone through."

They assured him that they were both fine and, eventually, Vince knew he must go up and see his mother.

Mrs Bennet, when he saw her, was exactly as might be expected. There were a great many tears and lamentations of regret, invectives against the villainous conduct of Wickham, and complaints of her own suffering and ill usage; blaming everybody but the person whose ill-judging indulgence must be principally to blame, namely herself.

"If I had been able," she cried, "to carry my point of going to Brighton, with all the family, this would not have happened. But poor Lydia had nobody to take care of her. Why did the Forsters ever let her go out of their sight? I am sure there was some great neglect on their side, for she is not the kind of girl to do such a thing, of she had been well looked after. I always thought they were very unfit to have the charge of her, but I was overruled as I always am."

Vince rolled his eyes at this but remained silent, knowing it was useless to argue with his mother on this point.

"Poor dear child! And now here's Mr Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight Wickham wherever he meets him, and then he will be killed! You should have stayed in London, Vince. It should be you who fights him, for you would not die so easily. Oh, what is to become of us?"

"My uncle, your brother, is in London now too," Vince said as soothingly as he could. "I am sure neither will fight Mr Wickham, they mean only to find them, speak with them, and bring Lydia home."

"Oh, but they cannot do that! When they find them out, if they are not married already, they must make them marry. And as for wedding clothes, you must write to them Vince, and say that there is not time for you to make anything, but that Lydia is to have as much money as she chooses to buy them, after they are married."

"I shall write no such thing," Vince mumbled under his breath, but his mother, thankfully did not hear, and he excused himself shortly after and fell upon his own bed, still fully dressed, and was asleep within a matter of minutes.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43. Really. It's getting that long.**

**Hope it's still being enjoyed.**

**Ta.**

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The days that followed his return home were not happy ones for Vince. Too many visits by far were paid to the family by members of the town, most of whom simply wanted fodder for gossip and Vince in his annoyance gave them short shrift. Despite his best efforts, the story of Lydia Bennet's disappearance was all about the town but when it was soon learned that Mr Wickham had debts owing in the town and had been underhanded toward the local innkeeper, the nature of the story twisted. Suddenly poor Miss Lydia had been seduced and drawn away by the villainous Wickham and the visits to the house became far more consoling than previous.

As the days passed, however, the assurance of Lydia's return began to dwindle. Their father sent a brief note to say that we was wholly disinclined to leave London, would write again soon, and intended to wring Lydia's neck soundly when he found her. There was a postscript that heartened them all though, to this effect: that he had been joined in his search by a gentleman who knew more of Wickham than he cared to, and that with his help, he felt that Lydia could not remain hidden for much longer.

Mrs Bennet despised the secrecy of the note, and openly railed against it when Jane read it out to her over the breakfast table.

"What gentleman is this?" she cried, sitting at the table but refusing to eat. "How can he trust men who have knowledge of Wickham when it is plain for all to see that Wickham is a cad of the worst kind? Surely it stands that his friends must be equally unpalatable. How shall Mr Bennet know that this man means him well and will not instead leave him bleeding in a dark alley in that horrid city?"

Mary and Jane were very much disinclined to enter into any conversation with their mother at this point and Kitty refused to talk to anyone for fear of being yelled at. They all looked so very miserable and Vince was desperate to provide them with some hope.

"There is a possibility, Mother," he said carefully, "that it is a friend of Colonel Forster's that joins Father in his search."

"And what would you know of this, Vince? What know you of colonels and officers. What know you of anything?"

Vince maintained his calm by discreetly running his fingers along the silk of his waistcoat. Soft fabrics always had a calming affect upon him and he certainly needed an extra helping of calm when dealing with his mother at present.

"I know very little of colonels and officers, Mother, that is very perceptive of you I am sure. However, whilst visiting Charlotte several months ago I was introduced to one Colonel Fitzwilliam; you have heard me speak of him before if you care to recall. He has apartments in Town and is well regarded by Colonel Forster, as well as a firm friend of Mr Christopher Bingley."

At this statement all four heads turned sharply toward him and Vince wondered why he had never noticed before the ability of the women of his family to resemble a wolf pack.

"But what advantage could he provide in the unearthing of Wickham?"

"He..." Vince wondered how he could say enough to give hope to his mother without unveiling secrets which were not his to unveil.

"He knew Mr Wickham when he was a youth," he asserted truthfully. "He had the misfortune to be witness to another of that man's indiscretions. I believe that his help will prove invaluable."

Jane and Mary looked very slightly hopeful, Kitty looked curious but their mother continued to scowl.

"That is all well and good, Vince my son, but you have no way of knowing that this friend of yours had come to our aid. This is all but a figuring of your wild imagination."

Vince, unwilling to admit in any way that she might have a point, chose instead to smile in the face of her petulance.

"I think after breakfast I shall write to Colonel Fitzwilliam in any case. If he has already joined our father's search, he may be able to update us on their progress. If he is yet to be acquainted with it, then we can make it known to him and petition for his help."

This was met with a huff but no further argument and so, when breakfast was over, Vince entered his father's study and sat down at the grand desk to write to Fitzwilliam, hoping that the humiliation he had felt when they had last seen each other could be forgotten at least until Lydia was recovered.


	44. Chapter 44

**More bits. Action to come soon.**

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Each day at home was now a day of anxiety; the most anxious part of each being when the post was expected. The arrival of letters was the first grand object of every morning's impatience. Through letters, whatever good of bad was to be told would be communicated, and every succeeding day was expected to bring some news of importance.

But before they received any further word from their father , Mr Gardiner or Colonel Fitzwilliam, a letter arrived for their father from a very different quarter; from Mr Collins, which, having received directions to open all mail that came for him in his absence, Vince opened, read and gave to his sisters to do likewise. It did not make for pleasant reading but at least gave them an outlet for their frustration and anger and they spent half a day quite happily insulting his person and pitying his wife.

The letter read thusly:

"My dear Sir,

I feel myself called upon by our relationship, and my situation in life, to condole with you on the grievous affliction you are now suffering under, of which we were yesterday informed of. Be assured dear Sir, that Mrs Collins and myself sincerely sympathise with you, and all your respectable family, in your present distress, which must be of the bitterest kind, because proceeding from a cause which no time can remove.

No arguments shall be wanting on my part that can alleviate so severe a misfortune; or that may comfort you, under a circumstance that must be of all others most afflicting to a parent's mind. The death of your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison to this, I am sure. And it is to be lamented, because there is reason to suppose, as my dear Charlotte informs me, that this licentiousness of behaviour in your daughter has proceeded from a faulty degree of indulgence on your wife's part.

However, for the consolation of yourself and Mrs Bennet, I am inclined to think that her own disposition must be naturally bad, or she could not be guilty of such an enormity at so early an age. Howsoever that may be, you are grievously to be pitied, in which opinion I am not only joined by Mrs Collins, but likewise by Lady Catherine, to whom I have related the affair. She agrees with me in apprehending that this false step in one daughter will be injurious to the fortunes of all the others; for who, as Lady Catherine herself condescendingly says, will connect themselves with such a family?

And this consideration leads me moreover to reflect with augmented satisfaction on a certain event last November, for had it been otherwise, I must have been involved in all your sorrow and disgrace. Let me advise you them my dear Sir, to console yourself as much as possible, to throw off your unworthy child from your affection forever, and leave her to reap the fruits of her own heinous offense.

Yours sincerely,

Mr Bainbridge Collins."

"Fool," was Mary's first description upon reading the letter, and despite the many words said about him over the course of the day, a better noun could not be found. It was decided, mutually, not to show the letter to their mother and the letter was discretely misplaced.

The next letter received was a little more useful to the family, and came from their uncle, Mr Gardiner. It was not a particularly happy letter. It had come out that Wickham had left gaming debts of over one thousand pounds behind in Brighton with no way to pay them. He had not been found but they felt hopeful of discovering him soon. It was, as Vince had conjectured, Colonel Fitzwilliam who had joined the search, with one or two others of his acquaintance and Mr Gardiner was exceedingly grateful for their assistance.

He also added that they might expect to see their father at home on the following day. Rendered spiritless by the ill-success of all their endeavours, he had yielded to his brother-in-law's entreaty that he would return to his family, and leave it to him to do whatever occasion might be advisable for continuing their pursuit. Vince, upon hearing the letter, read by Jane, decided they should bring it to their mother's attention but, when presented with it, Mrs Bennet did not express so much satisfaction as her children expected, considering what her anxiety for his life had been before.

"What! He is coming home without Lydia?" she cried. "He cannot leave London before he has found them. Who is to fight Wickham, and make him marry her, if he comes away?"

"I am quite sure there will be no fighting, Mother," Vince sighed. "Father needs to come home. The search will be continued well enough without him by Mr Gardiner, Colonel Fitzwilliam and their companions."

"I do not know what you would know about it, Vince. What do you know, my boy, of the ways of the world?"

Vince merely took his leave, hoping the situation would resolve itself one way or another, if only to stop his mother's constant moaning.


	45. Chapter 45

**Things are finally moving again. Thank you for those who are reviewing. Reviews are like... the tingly excited/happy feeling in your tummy when you're watching the Boosh Live DVD and Julian enters wearing that big coat for the Tundra scene and you know that underneath it there are only tiny pink pants and Barratt's skin. **

**Enjoy!**

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Two days after Mr Bennet's return, as Jane and Vince were walking together in the shrubbery behind the house, they saw Mary heading toward them quickly, and moved to join her.

"Vince! Jane! Did you not see the horse?"

"What do you mean, Mary? We heard no one arrive."

"Am express arrived some ten minutes ago, from our uncle. Father read it in the doorway and has just now set off toward the meadows."

Vince immediately broke into a run, too eager to have time for speech. He ran through the house and out the front door, following his father's path, stumbling slightly on the gravel of the drive. He could hear his sisters following but they were unused to running and Vince had the advantage of trousers and so went quickly across the grass toward the elm trees and his father's retreating back.

"Father, wait! What news?"

Mr Bennet turned and Vince slowed to a walk, his lungs burning and his legs trembling from the exertion.

"I have had a letter from Mr Gardiner."

Vince fought to regain his breath. His throat felt thick and he wished his father would offer the information willingly but he did not.

"Well, and what news does it bring? Good or bad?"

"What is there of good to be expected?" he said in reply, taking the letter from his pocket. "But perhaps you would like to read it? Read it aloud. For I hardly know myself what it is about."

Vince caught it from his hand and unfolded it, scanning the lines of neatly rounded words as they danced in front of his tired brain.

"My dearest brother,

At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece, and as such as, upon the whole, I hope will give you satisfaction.

Soon after you left me I was fortunate enough to be told the whereabouts of Lydia and Wickham by Colonel Fitzwilliam. The particulars I reserve until we meet. It is enough to know they are discovered. I have seen them both and Lydia seems well. They are not married, nor can I find there was any intention of being so; but if you are willing to perform the engagements which I have ventured to make on your side, I hope it will not be long before they are. All that is required of you is to assure to your daughter, by settlement, her equal share of the five thousand pounds to be shared by your daughters after the decease of yourself and my sister; and, moreover, to enter into an engagement of allowing her, during your life, one hundred pounds per annum. These are conditions which, all things considered, I had no hesitation in complying with on your behalf.

I shall send this by express, that no time may be lost in bringing me your answer. There is little need for you to come to London again, therefore stay quietly at home and I shall keep my correspondence at a steady flow. We have judged it best that my niece should be married from this house, of which I hope you approve. She comes to us today. I shall write again as soon as anything more is determined on.

Yours,

Mr Edward Gardiner."

"Is it possible," wondered Vince, when he had finished, "that he will actually marry her?"

"I think perhaps Colonel Fitzwilliam was very persuasive," murmured his father. "Did you not once mention his determined nature and strong right hook, Vince?"

"Indeed, but-"

"He was an eager companion on our search. It was knowing that he was there to act in my stead that allowed me to come home. I think he must have convinced Mr Wickham of it. I can hardly see that several weeks in hiding in the company of Lydia would have enamoured him to the idea."

Vince nodded.

"Have you answered the letter?"

"Not yet, but it must be done soon."

"I quite agree father," Vince said, taking his father's arm and tugging him a little back toward the house. "Come back, and write immediately. Consider how important every moment is in such a case."

To his surprise his father gave a low chuckle.

"You used to tug at my arm in this manner when you were a boy, Vince," he said; a little mirth entering his tone. "When you had heard word that there was new music or new lace to be had in the town you would all but drag me along the road to help you in your purchase."

"I suppose you thought that I would be your most troublesome child."

"From time to time. But only until Lydia was old enough to order Kitty to go about mischief with her." He gave a sigh. "I fear that the outlook for your sisters and yourself will be much affected by this affair."

"I did not wish to marry anyway," Vince reassured him. "Jane is pretty enough that she shall find a man who will see past any family indiscretion, and Kitty might benefit from having a few more years at home before she is wed."

His father made no reply and so they walked side by side in silence until they were nearly at the door.

"The terms, I suppose, must be complied with?"

"Complied with! I am only ashamed of his asking so little."

"And they must marry, I suppose. Yet he is such a horrid man."

"Yes, they must marry. There is nothing else to be done. But there are two things that I very much want to know: one is how much money your uncle has laid down to bring it about; and the other, how am I ever to repay him."

"What money are you talking of, Father?" Vince replied, not following his father's line of thought at all.

"I mean that even with the right hook of our friend the Colonel, no man in his senses would marry Lydia on so slight a temptation as one hundred a year during my life, and fifty after I am gone."

"True," Vince said. "Though it had not occurred to me before. His debts need to be discharged. Oh, my poor uncle."

"Poor Wickham, I should say," Mr Bennet called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the house. "To be married to a girl such as Lydia. Let us just be thankful that the whole thing is done with and life can return to its normal course."

He left Vince standing on the step, still in possession of the letter, and feeling rather bemused. It seemed that the telling of the news to his sisters and mother would fall to him and he did not relish the task. Lydia had caused a great deal of distress for them all and there was little doubt that the scandal of a sixteen-year-old girl running off with an officer and living unmarried for near a month would be well told in the city and towns for some months. He wanted to hate his sister for the trouble she had caused and the social difficulties the family would continue to face because of her actions but knew that not long ago he had been willing to cause his own scandal for the sake of affection and other passionate feelings.

He now felt how selfish such an act would have been, especially when his own scandal could not have been patched over with a hasty marriage as Lydia's was to be. Yet he could not entirely regret his meeting Howard, not when it had led in turn to his meeting Colonel Fitzwilliam, whose friendship had proved invaluable in this most recent affair.


	46. Chapter 46

**Hello again. More silly Boosh and Prejudice fix coming your way. Hope youre weekends have been less hectic than mine.**

**Ta.**

* * *

Mrs Bennet was in raptures upon hearing the news that her daughter was indeed to be married. She spoke of it at length and made many plans of wedding clothes, wedding gifts and where they were to live. It was with great umbrage then, that she greeted the news that her husband would not advance a guinea to buy clothes for his daughter, and that her son would not lift a finger to make her any. She could not see how they could possibly show any unhappiness at the outcome of the last month nor that they should show their displeasure so openly. She was more alive to the disgrace which the want of new clothes must reflect on her daughter's nuptials, than to any sense of shame at her eloping and living with Wickham for so long before the aforementioned nuptials took place.

Vince was now most heartily sick of the whole situation that he had taken to hiding from his mother wherever he could. He had received a brief note from Colonel Fitzwilliam to assure him that he was happy to have been of assistance but could not take full responsibility for the discovery of the now Mr and Mrs Wickham. He also made mention that Wickham had resolved on quitting the Militia.

"...It was greatly my wish that he should do so," he wrote, "now that his marriage is fixed on. And I think you will agree with me in considering a removal from that corps as highly advisable, both on his account and your sister's. It is the intention now that Mr Wickham will go into the regulars and I have found him a position in a friend's regiment, now quartered in Plymouth. It is an advantage to have it far from the north of the kingdom, I think, as there are those who live in the north who would not be pleased to have him close by. He shall be kept well in line there and I hope, among different people, where they each have a character to preserve, they will both be more prudent. I have written to Colonel Forster, to inform him of our present arrangements, and to request that he will satisfy the various creditors of Mr Wickham near Brighton with assurances of speedy payment, which has been pledged and delivered shortly. Your sister has made it known that she would see you all and her home again before them move on to their new situation and I shall endeavour to ensure that she makes it there without detours.

Your friend,

Leroy Fitzwilliam."

A letter repeating Lydia's desire to see her family on her way to Plymouth was sent to Mr Bennet from Mr Gardiner and was, after some disgruntlement, allowed. None wanted to spend even an afternoon in the company of Wickham, but for the sake of Mrs Bennet, who dearly wished to dote upon her now married daughter, the visit was agreed to.

All too soon the day of the visit arrived and once more Vince found himself stood between his sisters in the front hall, waiting for the arrival of his youngest sister and her most despised husband. The carriage was heard and Mrs Bennet began to fuss that Mary's dress was creased in a most unacceptable way and that Jane's refusal to smile was most unbecoming. Vince reminded himself that they were only to stay a few days and that, if he managed to survive those days without doing harm to himself or one of his relations he could buy himself a new hat.

Lydia's voice was heard outside; the door was thrown open, and she ran into the room. Her mother stepped forward, embraced her, and welcomed her with distasteful joy. She gave her hand, with an affectionate smile, to Wickham, who followed his new wife; and wished them both joy with an alacrity which showed no doubt of their happiness with one another.

Their reception from Mr Bennet, to whom they then turned, was not quite so cordial. His countenance was austere and he scarcely opened his lips. The easy assurance of the young couple was enough to provoke him and Vince could quite understand his disgust.

Lydia was still Lydia; untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy and fearless. She turned from sister to sister, demanding their congratulations and when she came to Vince had the gall to laugh at his stony expression.

Wickham seemed far too at ease and, when they sat down to dinner; he complimented Mrs Bennet on the room, the food and how well she looked until she was giggling easily as much as Lydia.

"Only think of its being three months," Lydia cried," since I went away. It seems but a fortnight I declare; and yet there have been things enough happened in the time. Good gracious! When I went away, I am sure I had no more idea of being married till I came back again. Though I thought it would be very good fun it I was."

Their father lifted up his eyes and Vince saw little love in them. Jane was distressed, Mary looked repelled and even Kitty seemed to find the display unpleasant. Vince looked at Lydia the way he had once looked at bugs from the garden, with a kind of disgusted interest, but she did not notice and continued gaily.

"Oh, Mother, do the people here abouts know that I am now a married woman? I was afraid they might not, and we overtook Sir William in his curricle, so I was determined he should know it, and so I let down the side glass next to him, and took off my glove, and let my hand just rest upon the window frame, so that he could see the ring, and then I bowed and smiled like anything."

Vince could bear it no longer. He got up and excused himself carefully from the table. Lydia laughed at him but he did not turn around and returned no more, until he heard them passing through the hall to the sitting room. Mary found him seated on the stairs and sat down tiredly beside him.

"I thought she was a tiresome girl," Mary sighed, leaning against him. "But she is an even worse woman. At least her being married means that we won't have to live with her any longer. And anything we do shall seem nothing when compared to our younger sister's actions."

"There is that to be treasured," Vince replied, absently twirling his hair. "But I do not think I shall be doing anything scandalous, Mary."

"But we have had practice now," Mary pouted affectionately. "And you have not even bothered to enquire whether there are any poets available for you to run away with."

"It is only the fact that I know you are teasing that prevents me from pushing you down the stairs, Mary. And what is to prevent you from finding yourself a nice... oh, I don't know... actress, musician? You must embark on your own illicit romance, you know. It is only fair."

Mary chuckled and put her arms around her brother in a gentle hug.

"You must come in for tea, Vince," she said eventually. "It isn't fair for us to leave Jane in a room with so many opposing emotions and personalities. She does not cope well with it all."

"Alright," Vince agreed, climbing to his feet and stomping down the stairs after his sister.

"Are you trying to emulate Lydia's heavy footfalls so that we do not miss her too much when she is gone, Vince?"

"It isn't too late to push you down the stairs, Mary."

His only reply was a chuckle but it was enough to allow him to put on a pleasant countenance in the face of Lydia and Wickham.


	47. Chapter 47

**Naughty Lydia is naughty.**

* * *

Lydia and Wickham made their farewells to the Bennets two days later and no one but Mrs Bennet regretted that their stay was so short. On their final morning together Vince was sitting out among the elms when his youngest sister, with flourish of her skirts, suddenly sat beside him.

"You are hiding from me, Vince," she pouted.

"Not at all. I am hiding for my own sake, so that I do not cause bodily harm to your newly acquired husband."

Lydia giggled at this, and Vince suspected she had not understood the implication of his statement. He sighed and rolled his eyes skyward.

"What do you want, Lydia?"

"I never gave you an account of my wedding, Vince. You were not by, when I told Mother and the others about it. I must not go without telling you. Are not you curious to hear how it was managed?"

"Not really," replied Vince. "I think there cannot be too little said on the subject."

"Oh, Vince, you are so strange! But I must tell you how it went off. We were married, you know, at St. Clement's, because Wickham's lodgings were in that parish. And it was settled that we should all be there by eleven o'clock. My uncle and aunt and I were to go together; and the others were to meet us at the church. Well, Monday morning came, and I was in such a fuss! I was so afraid, you know, that something would happen to put it out, and then I should have gone quite distracted. And there was my aunt, all the time I was dressing, preaching and talking away just as if she was reading a sermon. But I did not hear above one word in ten, for I was thinking only of my dear Wickham. I longed to know whether he would be married in his blue coat. It is quite equal to yours, you know."

Vince rolled his eyes again at this but chose to remain silent, in the hope that by doing so her story would be over the sooner and he might be left in peace.

"Well, and so we breakfasted as usual; I thought it would never be over, for, by the bye, you must understand, that my uncle and aunt were horridly unpleasant all the time I was with them-"

"Goodness, I can't think why."

"I did not once put my foot out of doors, though I was there a fortnight. Not one party, or scheme, or any thing. To be sure London was rather thin, but, however, the Little Theatre was open. Well, and so just as the carriage came to the door, my uncle was called away upon business to that horrid man Mr Stone, and then, you know, when once they get together, there is no end to it. Well, I was so frightened I did not know what to do, for my uncle was to give me away; and if we were beyond the hour, we could not be married all day. But, luckily, he came back again in ten minutes' time, and then we all set out. However, I recollected afterwards that if he had been prevented from going, the wedding need not be put off, for Mr Darcy or Colonel Fitzwilliam might have given me away just as well."

"Mr Darcy!" Vince repeated in utter amazement.

"Oh, yes! I thought that might capture your attention. Your dear friend Darcy. He was to come there with Wickham, you know. But gracious me! I quite forgot! I ought not to have said a word about it. I promised them so faithfully! What will Wickham say? It was to be such a secret!"

"If it s was to be a secret," Vince told her testily, "then say not another word on the subject."

"But don't you want to hear more?"

"No!"

Vince took a calming breath, and then three more, before speaking to his sister again.

"You should attend to your husband, Lydia, and make your farewells to our mother. I shall be there shortly to farewell you myself."

Lydia stood up with much huffing and folding of her arms but Vince simply leant back against the tree and looked away from her. He did not know whether his sister had wanted to be questioned, whether her revelation had been accident or design, but he was in no mood to indulge her, and had absolutely no desire to gossip with her about anyone, let alone Mr Darcy.

However, once the young couple had been waved away from the house, he hurried in doors and took up pen and paper to write a short note of enquiry to his aunt. He knew she would be prudent in her response and not divulge anything that should stay under strictest confidence but his curiosity required him to at least ask her if there was any information that he was privy to in the whole affair, in regard to Mr Darcy.


	48. Chapter 48

**The last line of this chapter made me nearly swoon, which is silly, cos I wrote it. I just really liked it. Hopefully they'll get together properly soon, which will be nice, except that it will mean the story will be over and I'll have to do something else obsessively for a few weeks. **

**Disclaimer: As always, I don't own the characters or the concept. I only own the bits where they run away from the plot and do silly things.**

* * *

Vince had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to his letter as soon as he possibly could. He was no sooner in possession of it than, hurrying to his room, where he was least likely to be interrupted, he sat down upon his bed and prepared to be happy; for the length of the letter convinced him that it contained much detail and should satisfy his curious nature.

"My dear nephew,

I have just received your letter, and having deciphered it (your spelling is still quite dreadful my dear), I shall devote this whole morning to answering it, as I foresee that a little writing will not comprise what I have to tell you. I must confess myself a little surprised by your application. Don't think me angry, however, for I only mean to say that I had not imagined such enquiries to be necessary on your side. Your uncle is as much surprised as I am - and nothing but the belief of your being a party concerned would have allowed him to act as he has done. In short, dear Vince, we thought that both Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were with us at your request but it seems that you are blessed with such friends as will do your will without your even asking. That is quite a talent, and I pray you take care to show such friends your thankfulness, they are men of great loyalty to you.

On the very day your father left from London, your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. Mr Darcy called and was shut up with your uncle for several hours. He came to tell Mr Gardiner that he had found out where your sister and Mr Wickham were, and that he had seen and talked with Mr Wickham. From what I can collect, he left Yorkshire with Colonel Fitzwilliam only two days after yourself, and came to town with the resolution of hunting for them, though only the Colonel made our acquaintance to begin with.

He called it his duty to step forward and endeavour to remedy an evil which he should have cut short many years ago, or at least made public when he saw Wickham's interest in young Lydia. I do not know how he knew where to find Wickham but he did and was able to direct the Colonel and your uncle to the place where they first entreated Lydia to return to her family and then convinced Wickham to marry her. It makes my stomach turn to write that Mr Wickham had to be persuaded from his belief that he could hope for a wife with better prospects once he had left Lydia and then he thought he could expect vast sums from your father, and then my husband. In the end, an amount was negotiated by Mr Darcy, who has also cleared his gaming debts and the money owing in your town. He would not let it be publicly known, he was quite obstinate, and so Mr Gardiner was expected to take the thanks that should have been Mr Darcy's, who did not even give a hint at why he would do such a thing, other than his friendship with you.

I really believe that your letter this morning gave my husband great pleasure, because it required an explanation that would give praise where it was due, rather than at his own feet. But, Vince, this must go no father than yourself, or Jane and Mary at most. You know pretty well, I suppose, what has been done for the young people. Wickham's debts were more than a thousand pounds and Mr Darcy settled them. Fitzwilliam gained him a commission with a regiment and the two men paid the way there. They stayed until the wedding and then, I believe were expected back at Pemberley but did not say for certain.

I believe I have now told you everything. It is a relation which you tell me is to give you great surprise; I hope at least it will not afford you any displeasure. Will you be angry with me, my dear Vince, if I take this opportunity of saying how much I like him? Mr Darcy, that is. His behaviour to us has, in every respect, been as pleasing as can be. His understanding and opinions all please me; he wants nothing but a little more liveliness which, I can imagine, he gains greatly when in your company. It is a great friendship you have gained in knowing him. I say this in part because I remember your mother and young sisters speaking of him quite negatively, and of your friendship with him as troublesome. I should rather think that you are very blessed to have such a devoted friend. He spoke of you quite often and how you had taught him much in many things. I would go so far as to say that he was sweet in nature and that I hope your friendship with him endures for many years to come.

I must finish my letter here, else I shall have used too much paper and your uncle shall be scolding me. Know that you are always welcome here, Vince, and perhaps next year we shall have a chance to finish our tour of Yorkshire together.

Yours very sincerely,

M Gardiner."

The contents of this letter threw Vince into a flutter of spirits, in which it was difficult to determine whether pleasure or pain bore the greatest share. He had expected Mr Darcy to avoid all contact with the situation and instead the man had followed them purposely to town, had taken on himself all the trouble and mortification attendant on such a research. He had needed to meet with people he despised, make supplication to them and eventually bribe them, in order to provide an outcome that would cause the least amount of damage to the Bennet name.

He could not have done so for Lydia, he had never hidden his dislike of her. And after the way Vince had spoken to him while a guest at his home... he could not see why Howard would do this though Vince's heart whispered that it had been done for him. But the truth of this would not stay secret long. People would talk. People always talked, and now they would gossip of how Mr Howard Darcy had aided the Bennets in redeeming their daughter after her ill-executed elopement. This, added to the gossip of Miss de Bourgh's engagement to Colonel Fitzwilliam, would surely leave Howard vulnerable as well as miserable. Despite his wishes, Vince wanted strongly to comfort his friend. They owed everything to him; the restoration of Lydia, her character, her everything, they owed to him. And it hurt to think on it.

Vince read over his aunt's commendation of Howard again and again. It was hardly enough, but it pleased him. The thought that the relations whose opinion he cared for thought Howard a good man and worthy friend brought him pleasure, even as the thought of being parted henceforth from him brought him a pain in his heart so strong that he felt the need to lie down. He wondered, not for the first time, when his heart would stop reacting so violently to even the thought of his former, almost lover.


	49. Chapter 49

**Oh, melancholy silence. But there are happy chapters to come, promise.**

* * *

Vince awoke, fully dressed and in the middle of the day, wondering why there was such an unwelcome banging in his head. It took him a moment to realise that the banging was in fact coming from his door. He quickly hid the letter from his aunt, patted his hair back into place, and attended to the knocking.

Kitty stood on the other side of the door, bouncing up and down with her excitement.

"Vince, you must hear the news!" she began, taking his hands and continuing to move like a float in a stream.

"You must hear... Vince, are you alright?"

Vince straightened his waistcoat and patted his hair again.

"Quite fine, Kitty, except that I fell asleep rather unexpectedly. What is your news and why do I have the privilege of hearing it?"

"Because everyone else already knows it and I needed to tell someone and you were the only person left," she said bluntly.

"You honour me, sister," he replied drily, walking back over to his bed and falling onto it gracelessly.

Kitty followed him in, grinning at the rare liberty of being allowed to enter her brother's room. She twirled in front of the mirror and it was only Vince's deliberately cleared throat that reminded her of the news she had been so eager to tell.

"You shall be amazed, Vince, everyone is, for we all thought he had no intention of ever returning, but," she paused for effect and was disappointed when Vince did not even deign to open his eyes.

"The housekeeper at the manor house over the way has received orders to prepare for the arrival of her master, who is coming down in a day or two, to shoot there for several weeks... the manor house, Vince. The master there is Mr Bingley! Is that not terribly exciting?"

Vince now did open his eyes, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answers to the countless questions floating in his mind. Kitty, meanwhile pouted at his lack of reaction.

"Jane quite changed colour when she heard, and Mother has the fidgets. Is it not exciting? Do you think he will hold another ball? It has been so long since we had a ball."

Vince stood up once more and stalked toward the door, Kitty close at his heels. He headed toward the sitting room and found Jane in there alone. Closing the door on his younger sister, who protested loudly at such treatment, vince moved swiftly to his older sister's side.

"Are you quite alright?" he asked softly.

"Do not look at me like that, Vince," Jane replied. "Do not imagine me distressed. The news does not affect me either with pleasure of pain."

"And what news might that be?" Vince said, letting a mischievous grin creep onto his face.

"Bingley is come, Vince, I know that Kitty has told you so. Do not pretend you are ignorant. And as I say, I am unaffected by the fact. I am glad of only one thing, that he comes alone; because it means we shall see less of him and nothing of his sister. Not that I am afraid for myself, but I dread other people's reactions."

Vince did not know what to make of it. He had told Jane of his conversation with Bingley at Pemberley but she seemed unwilling to accept any possibility that their interrupted courtship could be renewed.

"But, Jane, he loves you!"

"You do not know that, Vince."

"He adores you, I know that."

"How could you possibly-"

"He argued with his sister over you and was not thankful for her interference. I tell you, he only has eyes for you, Jane."

"Please do not be foolish, Vince," Jane begged, turning her head away from him in frustration.

"I am not a fool," he retorted.

"Perhaps not, but you are too romantic for your own good. You think the best of people and perhaps you should not. Can you not just let me be, Vince?"

"Very well."

Vince moved across the sofa until he felt there was adequate space between them. He knew there was no point in pressing his sister further, she was unwilling to believe that Bingley felt anything for her and would remain obstinate until he came in person to prove her wrong.

"It must be hard," he pondered aloud. "That this poor man cannot come to a house which he has legally hired, without raising all this speculation."

"Which is precisely why we must leave him to himself."

Vince gave a large sigh and turned to look out of the window at the garden. In spite of what his sister declared, Vince could easily perceive that her spirits were affected by the news. Their silence was not helped by the many noises coming from beyond the sitting room and soon enough Vince found himself at the door, his ear pressed to it in an attempt to overhear his parents' conversation.

"As soon as ever Mr Bingley comes, my dear," said Mrs Bennet, "you will wait on him of course."

"I am sure this conversation has already taken place, my dear," came the grumbling reply. "This subject was warmly canvassed almost a twelvemonth ago, but I shall not be repeating mistakes of the past. You promised me, as I recall, that a friendly acquaintance with that gentleman would see him marry one of my daughters. But it ended in nothing, and I will not be sent on a fool's errand simply to satisfy your fancy."

His wife represented to him now absolutely necessary such an attention would be from all the neighbouring gentlemen, on his returning but Mr Bennet only harrumphed at her.

"'Tis an etiquette I despise," said he. "If he wants our society, let him seek it. He knows where we live. I will not spend my hours in running after my neighbours every time they go away and come back again."

"But it shall be abominably rude if you do not wait on him! People shall talk!"

"People shall never cease talking of this family, I am sure. I think it would be unfair on the gossips of the town if I were to visit Mr BIngley. It would deprive them of something rude to say about us."

Mrs Bennet could only shriek her displeasure and stormed up the stairs to her room, leaving her husband to sigh wearily on his way back to his study.

"It would be nothing," Jane spoke with a whisper that none the less made Vince jump for its being unexpected. "I could see him with perfect indifference, I am sure, but I can hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually talked of. My mother means well; but she does not know, cannot known, no one can know, how much I suffer from what she says. I shall only be happy when Mr Bingley's stay is over."

Vince moved quickly to envelope his sister in a heartfelt embrace. He knew something of how she felt. How it felt to have one's heart displaced and be forced to endure the presence of the one who had taken it as if it meant nothing.

"I wish I could say any thing to comfort you," he replied softly, as he stroked her hair. "But it is wholly out of my power. We shall, between us, resolve not to speak of it. We shall say nothing of fine gentlemen, whether they have pale skin and fine cheekbones, or brown eyes and tussled hair. We shall talk only of the weather and soft fabrics. Do you agree?"

She nodded, and the two sat in companionable if melancholy silence for some time, alone with their own thoughts.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50. Don't know how that happened. I think it is traditional in these circumstances to blame Ice Cream Eyes.**

* * *

Mr Bingley arrived in the neighbourhood.

Mrs Bennet, upon hearing of it, contrived to make her husband's life as difficult as possible. She fretted and complained, railed at him and forced her children to hide from her. She had permission to ask Mr Bingley for tea and she counted the days that must intervene before their invitation could be sent; hopeless of seeing him before because her husband would not humble himself and visit him.

However, on the third morning after his arrival, Mr Bingley was spotted from Mrs Bennet's upstairs window, entering the meadow and riding towards the house. She eagerly called her daughters and son to join her in her joy.

"Jane! Jane, you must come and see! Oh, Vince, Mary, Kitty! Come and see. It is Mr Bingley, riding across the meadow!"

"There is a gentleman with him, mamma!" cried Kitty, having run to the window much quicker than her siblings. "Who can it be? I cannot tell!"

"Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I do not know."

"La!" replied Kitty. "It looks like that man that used to be always Vince's shadow. Mr. what's-his-name. That tall, strange man."

"Good gracious, you're right! Mr Darcy! So it does, I vow. Well, any friend of Mr Bingley's will always be welcome here, to be sure; but I am not particularly fond of him."

"What about me?" Vince called, finally entering the room.

"What about you, dear?"

"He is a friend of mine also, Mother. Are not my friends welcome in the house?"

The look his mother gave him was so very like one of his fathers that it fair made him blanche.

"I suppose your friends are welcome, Vince. But you are not the gentleman coming across the meadow to woo my daughter, are you?"

Vince scowled at that but could not help but gaze out of the window with the others. Mr Darcy looked rather too handsome from atop a horse.

Jane grasped his arm and gave him a look of concern. He had told her a little of his last meeting with Howard and how he had told the other man that they should not meet again, and yet here he was, and here was Vince, desperate to have it known that they were indeed friends. Neither could be entirely comfortable watching the two men approach and hurried away from the window.

"We shall simply greet them with as much polite indifference as we can manage," Jane said breathlessly as they hurried down the stairs. "They are surely only come to give the most general kind of greetings upon entering the neighbourhood once more. Mr Bingley must know that such a curtesy is due to our parents after his abrupt departure last year."

Vince nodded but didn't reply. His heart was beating too loudly for him to catch more than one word in three that fell from his sister's lips and the sole focus of his mind was that Bingley had finally come to propose to Jane. That Mr Darcy accompanied him meant little, he had likely been convinced against his will to be there to support his friend. He would not speak to Vince, there could certainly be no friendship between them. Surely that was for the best.

They entered the sitting room and Vince sat down at the piano, not playing, for his mind could think of nothing to play. He simply ran his fingers along the keys while his ears strained for the first sounds of the approaching horses. Jane sate intently at her needlework, striving to be composed. She looked a little paler than usual, but more sedate than Vince had expected.

Suddenly the knock at the door came and Mrs Bennet and Kitty bustled in, while Mary stood in the doorway to the sitting room and welcomed the two men as they entered through the hall. On the gentlemen's appearing, Jane's colour increased; yet she received them with tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behaviour equally free of resentment or any unnecessary complaisance.

Vince, for his own part, did not fare quite so well. He stood to shake their hands but offered only a mumble to Bingley in greeting and, when Howard grasped his hand and shook it firmly Vince let out a rather undignified squeak at the contact. He could feel his face turn crimson and and lowered his head to hide the blush with his hair but not before he saw the twitch of Howard's lips as the man repressed a smile.

Vince refused to raise his eyes again and stared intently at the piano instead. Howard took a seat near the instrument but Vince's hands still refused to play, and so they sat, in a pocket of quiet and stillness in the otherwise restless room.

Mrs Bennet was the main source of the restlessness. She had barely given Mr Bingley a chance to be seated before her stream of constant chatter began.

"It is a long time, Mr Bingley, since you went away," she said, and to which he readily agreed.

"I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People did say you meant to quit the place entirely; but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changed have happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled. And one of my own daughters, too."

"Yes, I did hear something of it-"

"I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have seen it in the papers. It was in the Times and the Courier, I know; though it was not put in as it ought to be. It said only their names and not a syllable said of her father, or the place where they lived, or any thing. It was my brother Gardiner's drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?"

Bingley replied hurriedly that he had and made his congratulations, his eyes jumping nervously, first to Howard, then to Jane, then Vince, before back to Mrs Bennet, who had already continued with her one-sided conversation. Vince saw, from the corner of his eye, Howard shift awkwardly in his seat and bit his lip. His mother's ignorance was causing them both discomfort and, having nothing else to do in the situation, he resorted to twirling and tugging on a lock of hair.

"It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married," continued his mother, completely oblivious to the effect her words were having on the young people in the room. "But at the same time, Mr Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from me. They are gone down to Plymouth, a place quite foreign to me, and there they are to stay, I do not know how long. He has gone into the regulars, thank Heaven! He has some friends who aided his commission, though perhaps not so many as he deserves."

Vince chanced to raise his eyes to his sister and saw that her cheeks were so red she looked as if she had been taken in a sudden fever, and he knew that her blush matched his own. Mary had, with little care for decorum, put her palm to her face at her mother's speech, while Kitty was listening intently, as though she had not heard all of this information several times already. He did not dare look at Howard. His mother's ill chosen words could only cause the man to think even less of their family than he already did and the misery and shame of it was so much that he could hardly keep his seat.

As their mother finally paused to draw breath, Jane saw her chance and spoke.

"Do you mean to be in the country long, Mr Bingley?"

"A few weeks, I believe," he replied, with shyness at least equal to Jane's. "For the shooting, you know."

"When you have killed all your own birds, Mr Bingley," her mother interjected, "I beg you will come here, and shoot as many as you please on Mr Bennet's manor. He would be very happy to oblige you, I am sure, as he rarely shoots these days and Vince will not shoot at all, though we did try to engage him in the sport for several seasons."

Vince's misery increased at such unnecessary chatter. And to talk of him as if he were not in the room! His mother had never before cared at his unwillingness to shoot, why now was she choosing to speak of him so?

The torture went on for some minutes more, Mrs Bennet talking and every other party in the room desperate for her to stop (save Kitty, of course) but finally the two gentlemen rose to leave. Bows were stiff and curtseys awkward and Mr Bingley stopped before Jane for a moment too long, looking as though he wanted desperately to speak to her. His nerve failed him, it seemed, and they left quickly, though Vince noticed Christopher blush when Jane wished him a fair ride. Neither men looked at Vince as they departed and Vince did not know whether he should rejoice or mourn at the fact. It had not really occurred to him that in losing Howard Darcy's friendship he might be losing Christopher Bingley's as well.

He sat back down at the piano after he heard the door close and stayed there, quite still until dinner was called, whereupon he found himself with no appetite and withdrew to his bed, wondering when he would be able to go a day without the feelings of his heart effecting the feelings of his stomach.


	51. Chapter 51

**Disclaimer: Although this scene is not in the book, I'm still not claiming ownership of anything.**

* * *

Christopher Bingley paced back and forth in front of the mirror, glaring at his own reflection.

"That did not go well," he said, eliciting a grunt from Howard.

"What did not go well?"

"Seeing Miss Bennet today, what else could I mean?"

"Well, considering the fact that seven hours have intervened between then and now, a great many things. But," he said, attempting to sound more sympathetic, "I must say I agree. It did not go particularly well, did it?"

"No," BIngley snapped, pacing all the quicker. "And you did not help."

"I know," Howard whispered.

He had been compelled by Bingley to join him on his visit to the Bennets, despite knowing that it was a thoroughly stupid idea. Seeing Vince had only made him realise, once again, that he was missing the other half of his soul, without which he could not live. It had also been unfair on Vince, he realised. The young man had spent the entire visit attempting to hide behind his hair, biting his lip and blushing. His mother had been insufferable but she seemed very different in character to her three oldest children which, he supposed, would be a blessing for Bingley.

"You shall just have to contrive," he said after a pause, "to meet with Miss Bennet at a time when her mother is not present."

"Do you think it worth it?"

Howard rolled his eyes at his friend's eagerness. He had studied the young lady closely during their visit, mostly in an attempt to keep his eyes from straying to Vince, and he had noticed two things. The first was that she was working very hard to maintain a certain level of indifference. This was understandable considering the nature of the visit and the need to refrain from hitting Mrs Bennet over the head with an embroidery hoop, but it was also, very obviously to Howard, an act. The second thing he noted was the fact that Jane's eyes were similar to Vince's. They were not the same vibrant blue, nor quite as large and captivating, but they were, like her brothers, a window into her emotions. Her adoration for Bingley shone through so blindingly that Howard wondered at his not having noticed it the last time they were in the neighbourhood. He could only conclude that he had been too preoccupied by another set of eyes to notice that Miss Jane Bennet did appear to be quite in love with Mr Christopher Bingley, even if she was trying to hide it.

"I think it very worth the effort, Christopher," he said smiling. "It would do me good to see someone happily settled who actually deserves it."

Christopher sat down beside him with a smile tinged at the edges with sadness.

"You are no longer to marry Miss de Bourgh, you know."  
"I am aware of that, thank you."

"So, there is no impediment to finding someone to be with, someone who you love."

"Bingley," Howard said warningly.

"There must be some way, Howard," Christopher cried, throwing his hands up in frustration. "You and I travel about as friends and no one thinks anything of it, why cannot Vince join us?"

"It wouldn't-"

"Your brother could do with a music teacher, why can Vince not live at Pemberley with you in that capacity?"

"Because-"

"Or invite him there to paint landscapes of the grounds or to study the birds and other woodland creatures unique to that part of Yorkshire. There are many possible scenarios, why not just pick one?"

"Because he does not wish to be my shameful secret!" Howard answered angrily. It was not entirely fair, he knew. Christopher was only trying to help and Howard was amazed that the man had no qualms about the fact that his friend loved another man, but the suggestions rankled him because they would never work.

"Why should he be your shameful secret, Howard?"

"Because your suggestions only allow for him to be with me under some pretense. He does not want that."

"No, Howard." It was Bingley's turn to roll his eyes. "He does not wish you to be ashamed. He did not want to be a secret only indulged in when you could no longer bear it. I can certainly understand his feelings when you were engaged to Miss de Bourgh. You have not given him great cause to love you, Howard, but I saw his face as well as you did today and I would bet my income that he still does. Despite his head, that boy loves you."

Howard sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, letting it fall messily about his face and Christopher chuckled.

"We still cannot openly be together."

"Perhaps not, but a secret does not have to be shameful, Howard. Think on that."

With that, Christopher stood, stretched and moved toward the door.

"And what shall you think on, pray tell?"

"I," Christopher said as he turned, a hint of fire in his eye. "I shall think on how to best prove myself worthy of Miss Jane Bennet and how I might speak to her without the interference of her tedious mother!"


	52. Chapter 52

**More romantic silliness. **

**Mary has always been my favourite P&P character and I always wished she was developed more as a character and allowed to have a happy ending, so I'm working toward that for her, never fear. I like her too much to leave her in the clutches of the horrible Mrs Bennet for too much longer.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Some two days later a letter was received by Mr Bennet from Mr Bingley, inviting the family to dinner that Thursday, along with several other families, to celebrate the shooting season. The letter also extended an invitation to Mr Bennet and Vince to join the shooting party the following day. Mr Bennet scoffed at the idea of shooting, his hands were not as steady as they once were, he claimed, but Mrs Bennet seized upon the letter and began at once to pester her son.

"But I cannot see what would be gained by my going!"

"How can you not see?" his mother cried in reply. "For your sister, for your family, you should go, Vince. Nay, you must."

"But I do wish to shoot. I do know know how and I would rather not learn." Vince knew his expression was petulant but he could not shake it. He had no desire to wander about a field while other men shot at the sky. The possibility of their missing and hitting him instead was terrifying. Imagine what his hair would resemble if such a tragedy were to occur!

"You are a grown man now, Vince," his mother argued on. "I think perhaps I have indulged you too greatly. You should know how to shoot, Vince, it is only proper. Your wife will expect it of you!"

At that Vince threw his arms above his head in disgust and stormed from the room. He made his predictable way out to the elm trees but there was no solitude to be found, for Mary followed soon after, bringing with her a small bag of sugared almonds which she knew would soothe her brother's temper.

"You do not wish to go shooting?"

"There is nothing about shooting which I like. I detest it."

"Mr Darcy will be there," she said, looking at him from the corner of her eye and smiling.

"All the more reason for me not to go," Vince retorted. "I cannot do it, Mary. I cannot live with all this too-ing and fro-ing of my emotions. I cannot be in his company, I have tried. It is too painful and I am quite fed up with my stomach threatening to bring up my lunch whenever Howard comes near me."

Mary nodded thoughtfully.

"And you told him such, did you not?"

"I did," Vince answered carefully, for he had told his sisters only the most basic facts about his visit to Pemberley.

"Do you not think it strange then," Mary continued softly, "that he has chosen to reacquaint himself with you? That he came back with Mr Bingley to the neighbourhood? That he could not look at you without blushing?"

Vince let out a harsh sigh.

"He does have feelings for me, I am sure. But I cannot see a way that we can do anything about them. I cannot excuse him saying our love was a degradation, calling me sinful and all sorts of horrible things. It was not pleasant."

"I can see it would not be, but I think that Mr Darcy's greatest failing is a general inability to give a good impression."

"Sorry?"

"Perhaps he is more like a good gouda cheese, and one must get used to him before one can find enjoyment."

Mary was attempting to look serious but Vince could see the smile in her eyes and the ludicrous truth of her statement caused him to laugh with more abandon than he had done for a very long time.

When they had both recovered themselves, sitting lazily in the grass and watching the leaves move on the trees, Mary began again on her original line of questioning.

"So, will you go shooting at the end of the week, then?"

Vince merely groaned in response but Mary was not to be put off.

"I think you must, Vince. You need to actually talk to Mr Darcy, plainly and openly. It does you both a disservice to second guess one another and misunderstand each other's intentions. If you go out to the shooting you can speak in the open air, and perhaps find time to be alone together."

Vince nodded again and smiled at his sister.

"You are right, I suppose, Mary. But to be alone with Howard..."

"Yes," she said wryly. "Do try and _talk_ to the man, Vince. Mother shall think it a very odd thing indeed if you return from a day out in the fields with the skin of your face rubbed pink. She shall not believe any stories about you shaving a second time."

Vince poked his tongue out at his sister, hating his pale skin which showed his blush so plainly.

"Why does no one in this family believe that I shave?"

Mary only chuckled and gave Vince the last sugared almond.

Well, Vince thought. I suppose I am to go shooting after all. It may be bearable, as long as my hair is not made to suffer.


	53. Chapter 53

**A little bit of awkward dinner conversation and promises not quite made.**

* * *

Thursday dawned and the Bennet household was all abustle. Vince put the final details on Jane's gown, Kitty shrieked that she could not find her favourite ribbon anywhere and that her hair would be a disaster without it. Mary and Mr Bennet both hid until it was time to enter the carriage, which was by far the most sensible thing to do. Mrs Bennet could not be satisfied with any thing the entire day. She gave Jane constant instructions as to her behaviour toward Mr Bingley and gave Vince constant warnings that he was not to interfere with his sister's courting in any way. Vince happily agreed to leave Bingley and Jane to themselves.

"And one more thing, dear," she said as he helped her into the carriage. "No sneaking off to go stargazing with that dreadful Mr Darcy. It makes you look quite odd."

The dinner at Mr Bingley's passed with surprising ease. The food was well prepared, the company jolly and no entertainment was deemed necessary for most of the evening because nearly every guest was engrossed by the display of modest affection between Miss Bennet and Mr Bingley. They made an exceedingly pretty couple and Vince found himself very much hoping that Christopher would not waste time in proposing. He would make an excellent brother-in-law.

The preoccupation with the young lovers also ensured that very few paid attention to the fact that Vince had been seated next to Mr Darcy. There was, by some design, an uneven number of ladies and men and so they found themselves side by side at the far end of the table from Bingley, Jane and Vince's parents.

Vince felt immediately anxious and he could see the tension both in Mr Darcy's body and the way his eyes darted about. It was not until the second course was nearly complete that they finally spoke and when they did, Vince began to wonder what had come over his friend.

"Did you like what you saw of Yorkshire, Mr Bennet?"

"I suppose so, Mr Darcy."

"Was it an enjoyable holiday?"

Vince blinked. Surely Howard - Mr Darcy, he corrected himself - could remember the several unpleasant instances which had marred his trip north.

"There were enjoyable parts, I suppose. I very much enjoyed meeting your brother."

"And he enjoyed meeting you," Mr Darcy said with enthusiasm. "He spoke sadly of your having to leave our company so abruptly."

Vince could think of no answer to that. His exit from Pemberley had been humiliating in his mind and he did not like to dwell too long on the fact that his emotional outburst had been witnessed by Mr Darcy's brother and cousins.

"I- I meant of course your sudden departure home to care for your family."

"Oh, yes, of course," Vince replied, ducking his head and biting his lip. "I believe we owe you a debt of gratitude in that matter, sir."

"Not at all," Mr Darcy said too quickly and Vince couldn't help but smile. "Unless you would be willing to venture north again. My brother feels he did not hear you play the piano nearly enough for his liking."

"Oh," Vince said for the second time, wondering how he could proceed.

"You would be most welcome."

"Would I?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Mr Darcy seemed to deflate a little where he sat but Vince's mind remained stubbornly blank.

"I know it is a substantial journey," Howard offered and Vince could hear the sadness in his voice.

"No, not at all." He began to twirl a lock of hair around his finger and saw Howard smile at the familiar gesture. Howard looked decidedly more attractive when he smiled, Vince thought, and then scolded himself for thinking of him as Howard again, rather than Mr Darcy.

"How long..." he wondered how to proceed with the question without causing himself embarrassment. "How long would such a welcome extend?"

It was Howard's turn to bite his lip and Vince found his eyes drawn to the man's mouth and the way his moustache twitched so delightfully.

His question did not receive an answer at that moment, however, because the meal came to a close and they were bid to stand and retire to another room for coffee. Sir William wished to reintroduce himself to Mr Darcy and enquire as to the health of Lady Catherine and Jane pulled Vince to one side to pour forth her delight at finding Mr Bingley so attentive and so dashing and so very much to her liking.

Coffee followed but Howard could not seem to find a moment alone with Vince until just as they were all saying their goodbyes and making preparations for the shooting the following day.

"Are you to join us, Mr Bennet?" Howard asked, and for the first time that night he looked directly into Vince's face. The younger man seemed to grow in beauty every time he saw him and it was almost unbearable to refer to him only as Mr Bennet. He enquired as to whether he would be shooting even though he knew it was not something Vince was inclined to do. He understood his reticence. Vince was a lover of animals and the idea of shooting them would necessarily cause him pain. He only asked so that he might have an excuse to speak to him but was greatly surprised by the answer he received.

"Indeed I am, Mr Darcy."

"What?"

"I shall be joining you and Mr Bingley, and the other gentlemen, in the field tomorrow. I have been convinced to try the sport, though I do not anticipate any talent for it."

"Oh."

"I believe that is my line, Mr Darcy."

They were both smiling now, if a little sheepishly and Howard looked forward to the next day with both apprehension and excitement. Finally, he would have a chance to make known his new plan. So long as he did not lose his nerve.


	54. Chapter 54

**This next bit wasn't in the book. Bingley went out shooting with Mr Bennet but it wasn't a plot point. It went a bit Sense and Sensability but not too much so. Hope you like it. I did.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of this but I love it, and surely that's kind of the same thing.**

* * *

"No, no, no, no, no!"

"But Vince-"

"No!"

The sound of a shot being fired a few meters to the left caused Vince to squeal and Howard could not quite restrain a short burst laughter, even when Vince glared at him with all the viciousness he could muster.

The shooting was not going well.

The whole affair had started badly, to Vince's mind. He had been warned by his father to wear clothing he did not regard as overly precious and had felt terribly exposed to be meeting Howard while dressed so very unfashionably. The rifle had been heavy and cumbersome and, upon his first sight of Howard, who had looked rugged and northern in his shooting attire, Vince had stumbled and ended up face first in the grass; to the vast amusement of the other men of the party.

The sounds of the rifles discharging was too loud, the screeches of the birds too heartbreaking, and Vince felt that his nerves were quite destroyed after only an hour. And now, to add the final touch to the horror, Howard was offering to teach him how to use the despised weapon. He tried to explain that it wold help him with the other fellows, who were enjoying Vince's reactions to the noises rather too much, but Vince would hear none of it. He had wanted to talk to Howard, to speak plainly of how they felt but now saw that in such an environment it would be impossible. With such thoughts in mind he resolved to return home. The other men could keep their shooting and guffawing, Vince would be much happier painting a picture or customising a new hat.

"I shall have no more of this, How- Mr Darcy!" he cried, stumbling again as he shouldered his father's rifle. "I shall see you another day."

He tried to spin dramatically but one of the men took the opportunity to let off another shot and instead of striding away with the last vestiges of his dignity intact, he shrieked and fell awkwardly to the ground. Howard was with him instantly but did not dare to touch him.

"Are you alright?"

"I am not-"

"You are not a weak young lady, I remember. But I must say that your fall looked nasty."

Vince winced. It had been a nasty fall and his ankle throbbed painfully within his boot but he was not in the mood to admit such and so began to pull himself upright with the aid of the rifle.

His sharp gasp as he attempted to put weight upon the injured ankle proved enough of an admission for Howard however and Vince felt the other man pull him upright gently and place an arm around his waist. Vince could feel his cheeks begin to heat but did not know whether it was a blush of embarrassment or the effect of having Howard's body pressed so closely to his own. Howard called out to Bingley, to say they were heading back and could their rifles be taken for them and received a knowing grin in return, which only made Vince's entire face flush.

The walk back across the fields was arduous and, though he tried to keep his pain concealed, he could not stop the occasional gasp when he put too much pressure on his injured ankle.

"I suppose," he said eventually. "That I had better repeal my previous statement."

"Your previous statement?" asked Howard, who had been quite distracted by having Vince in his arms and being able to take in the scent of his hair and skin and the light strength of his body.

"It seems that I am after all a weak young woman prone to twisted ankles."

Howard chuckled which caused Vince to smile and gaze up at his companion.

"Vince..."

"Yes?"

"Last night... I tried to say... The welcome would be an indefinite one."

Vince stopped walking. He had been moving at a slow and hobbling pace but now even that he could not maintain. He searched Howard's face and saw a great deal of fear but another emotion also and it was one that took him a moment to place. He had seen that look in Howard's eyes before, he realised, and it had been in the painting at Pemberley. The portrait of the fifteen-year-old Howard had looked out at him with that same look; that same hope, he realised. And now Howard the man stood before him, a spark of hope shining from his brown eyes.

"You would have me as your guest? For as long as I chose?" Vince felt his chest constrict painfully at the possibility of Howard's proposal. The emotions pouring forth from his heart were threatening to flood him entirely and he needed something to cling to before he was swept away entirely. He moved until he and Howard were facing one another, his hands resting on Howard's arms, taking comfort in the other man's solid presence.

"I would have you live with me, in my home, for as long as you chose," Howard spoke, his voice rough as he fought against his own torrent of emotion.

Vince gave a short laugh, one of disbelief and joy, confusion and just a touch of panic. He leaned his head toward Howard, wanting to show his delight and agreement with a kiss, and took a step forward to enter his embrace.

"Aargh!"

"Vince!?"

Howard caught the younger man as he fell, the pain of taking his weight so suddenly on his twisted ankle having sent him into a faint.

"Vince? Vince, was that a yes?" Howard whispered, unsure of why he felt the need to speak in hushed tones. He gave the man a light shake but Vince's head merely moved about like that of a small girl's rag doll and he remained unconscious.

"Oh dear," was all Howard could think to say.


	55. Chapter 55

**Tiny chapter, to be followed by a longer one.**

* * *

The arrival of Vince, unconscious and in the arms of Mr Darcy at the Bennet home, caused a significant stir. Mrs Bennet shrieked and burst into tears, telling anyone who would listen that she had been against Vince going shooting from the very beginning and had known that some evil or other would befall him. Mary and Jane meanwhile escorted Mr Darcy to the sitting room where Vince was placed carefully and lovingly on the sofa. Mr Darcy insisted on removing Vince's boots and elevating the injured ankle - which was dreadfully swollen - on a cushion.

"Thank you, Mr Darcy," Mary said reassuringly as he hovered about his unconscious charge.

"Yes, thank you," echoed Jane. "He shall be quite alright, we assure you."

"It is true," Mary smiled. "He cut himself with the scissors a few years ago and fainted from the pain and the sight of his own blood and remained completely insensible for two hours."

Howard nodded uncomfortably, looking once more at Vince. He had a sudden fear that he would wake up with no memory of their conversation, or worse, would come to his senses and assert a desire to never lay eyes upon Howard again. Howard felt panic begin to well up within him. He needed some way of assuring Vince of his devotion whilst not being actually present when he awoke and, he realised, he would need to act swiftly, as the two eldest Miss Bennets were beginning to wonder at his lack of response. At which point his gaze happened to fall upon the writing desk in the corner and the paper thereon.

"Might I," he stuttered. "Might I borrow paper and a pen?"

"Yes, certainly," Jane said, her brow creasing in confusion. "But you are welcome to stay."

"No, no, I... must retrieve our rifles, and assure the rest of our party that Vince is taken care of."

He nodded vigorously, encouraging the young ladies to do so as well and was given free use of the writing materials while they excused themselves to make a compress for their brother's ankle and to wet a cloth for his forehead.

Howard penned the letter hastily, hoping that it said all he needed it to. He seemed far too adept at causing confusion for both himself and Vince and did not want the young man to suffer any further. He left it on the small table beside the sofa, folded neatly with Vince's name written clearly so that his family would know to whom it belonged and whose eyes alone it was for. He gave one last, love-filled look at the man he adored and then quietly, with no fuss whatsoever, he left and began to walk back to Bingley's estate.


	56. Chapter 56

**Ah, sweet awkward happiness.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Vince awoke two hours later, rather confused and suffering from both a painfully throbbing ankle and a headache that his mother's chatter did not improve. He was assisted up the stairs by his father who revealed that he had not been out shooting since knocking himself unconscious with his own rifle and was quite proud to have a son opposed to the sport and would be equally proud if Vince never attempted it again. Vince did not mention to his father that he had fainted while in the arms of Mr Darcy, leaning in for a kiss, and simply thanked his father for both his pride and for his assistance on the stairs. Jane and Mary made him comfortable in bed and fetched him tea and books and embroidery but the little note was quite forgotten when the sound of hooves were heard on the gravel path.

As their mother was busy in the kitchen instructing the cook on the making of a soup for her poor, injured Vince, Jane and Mary went to greet their guest.

"Mr Bingley!"

"Miss Bennet," Bingley nodded to Jane. "Miss Bennet," he nodded to Mary. "I have come to return Vince's rifle and to see how his ankle fares."

Jane knew she was now called upon to speak but could not think of any word she could say.

"Thank you, Mr Bingley," Mary provided. "Shall I take it and return it to my father, for it is in fact his, whilst my sister, Jane shows you through to the sitting room?"

This he readily agreed to and, as a blushing Jane ushered an equally flushed Christopher into the sitting room, Mary shut the door and wandered off in the direction of her father's study.

Behind the sitting room door there was, between Bingley and Jane, a sudden but thoroughly genteel declaration of love. Sitting opposite one another by the hearth Christopher explained the unfortunate circumstances that had led him to believe that his affection for Jane was one sided and how, upon learning of his own sister's plotting to keep them apart and Jane's very real affection for him (all information given to him by Vince), he had resolved to return to the country as soon as he was able to see if he could try a second time to woo the young lady before him.

"Simply say that you will... that is, if you would... I should ask, of course, if you would do me... the honour... if you would take... that is to say... would you marry me, Jane Bennet?"

"I do not know what to say," Jane replied quietly, worried that her lack of ready words would put him off even at this late stage, even as her heart sang and whole being tingled with the knowledge that she was so truly loved. In return Christopher took her hand in his and, in true gentlemanlike manner, kissed her fingers.

"Your smile says more than enough."

The smile she gave him was dazzling and with a laugh she whispered a breathy, "Yes," and Bingley soon after withdrew to seek out her father to ask for his permission and blessing on the union. Mary answered the knock on the study door and, seeing the nervous yet determined expression on Mr Bingley's face, permitted him to enter, bid her father goodbye and went to seek her sister.

It was an afternoon of no common delight to all and Mr Bingley was welcomed warmly into the family. He could not stay to dine with them that evening as he was to host the gentlemen who had made up the shooting party but happily agreed to join the family for breakfast the next morning. He kissed Jane's hand again as he departed and seemed thoroughly besotted. Mrs Bennet wept and Kitty simpered and smiled, and hoped her turn was coming soon.

And Vince, upstairs and restless with his twisted ankle, knew nothing of the affair. He fell into a fitful sleep which lasted to the next morning and was only informed of the happy news when he awoke to all three of his sisters coming to check on the state of his health at once and all full of the story of Jane's engagement to Christopher Bingley.


	57. Chapter 57

**This chapter is unashamedly fluffy and romantic. It's just the way my brain works. **

**Disclaimer: I still don't own these characters or the plot or setting. But the bad poetry... that's all mine, I'm afraid. **

**Enjoy.**

* * *

"Ouch!"

"Sorry."

"Ouch!"

"Oh, do stop complaining Vince, it is only a twisted ankle."

"I shall complain as much as I please, Kitty. It hurts and you bumped it with your chair."

Vince sat at the breakfast table feeling rather put out. His sisters were treating him with a decided lack of sympathy, overtaken as they were by the excitement of Jane's engagement. His mother had forgotten his injury entirely in her own excitement and had even scolded him for his lateness to the breakfast table and his lack of shoes. He had pointed out to her that only he and Kitty were yet at the table and that his lack of footwear was on account of necessity rather than any unkemptness on his part that day as none of his boots would accommodate a swollen ankle, at which point she had remembered his infirmity and asked him if he was well. Her attentions would have been more welcome, Vince thought, if she had stayed to listen to his response, but as it was, she bustled from the room at the sound of the bell, to welcome Mr Bingley to their company.

Vince was, of course, happy for his sister and Bingley. They were perfectly matched and deserved every happiness. However, a small part of him looked upon them with jealousy and wished that Howard could be invited to breakfast as well. It had been disappointing to wake from his faint to find Howard gone and worse still to have heard nothing from him since. He worried that perhaps the other man had changed his mind but could not dwell on the thought because at that moment Mr Bingley entered with Mrs Bennet and Jane, followed soon after by Mary and their father and breakfast was finally allowed to commence.

"This is for you, Vince," Mary spoke softly as she slid into the chair beside him, handing over a folded sheet of paper bearing his name.

"I feel frightful that it was forgotten in all the rush yesterday."

"Whatever is it?" Vince asked her, turning it over in his hands.

"Mr Darcy left it for you yesterday. I do not know its contents."

Vince felt his entire body freeze. Even his lungs seemed to have been seized by some outward force and for some moments he could neither breathe nor move. He glanced around the table and was pleased to discover that the attention of all was upon Jane and Bingley as he carefully opened the note and began to read.

"To my most beloved Vince,

It has taken me far too long to come to this point of understanding within myself but finally, now, I feel I can put on to paper the feelings I have for you. I hope that you can read them and find them worthy of your reciprocation.

I cannot last an hour without my thoughts turning to you. I can no longer walk the halls of my home or the paths of my garden without remembering your presence once there. I long to see you there again, smiling as only you can smile and laughing with a joy that makes me imagine that I might be worthy of that same joy when at your side. And at your side is where I wish to be. For too long I thought only of myself, my own fears and what others might say of us. I should have been thinking of you and you alone.

If it is your wish, my home shall be your home and all that I have shall be put at your disposal. Why should I spare a thought for the world when I might have you with me, filling my home with music and laughter, love and fairytales? And if people should talk of us? Well, they think Northerners like myself to be quite strange and unfathomable already I am told and will no doubt think that we are simply mad and leave us well alone. Pemberley is a large enough estate that we might shut out all the world if we choose.

I come to this point and realise that I have omitted to write the words with which I should have begun. I love you, Vince. No one else in this world could make me happy but you and I shall make it my life's endeavour to make yours happier than any others.

And now, finally, because I hope that our love is a strong, stout love that can withstand even my halting rhyme, I shall leave you with a sonnet which I composed in my mind as I carried you across the meadow earlier today. You may feel free to laugh at it for your laugh is a music which feeds my heart, but do note the meticulously adhered to iambic pentameter.

If I could take up pastry I would make

A pie to show my love for you each day.

Filled with a million birds I would not bake

So they could sing for you with notes so gay.

If I was an explorer I would go

To the farthest depths of Tundra darkness

I'd brave for you the endless ice and snow,

To bring back a jew'l to match your fairness.

Yet fair does not give justice to your skin,

Tis cream so pure I long for just one taste.

To praise your eyes and lips can be no sin,

To tell of your great beauty I now haste.

I look at you and ask, 'how can it be,'

That one as bright as you should so love me?

Forever yours, if you will have me,

Howard."

As he read the letter a sob escaped Vince's mouth, despite his attempts to seem calm and unaffected. He immediately covered his mouth as every eye at the breakfast table turned toward him but it was Mary who came to his aid.

"Oh Vince, I am sorry!" she turned to smile ashamedly at her family. "My foot kicked his ankle quite by accident! How clumsy of me! Will you forgive me, Vince?"

Vince could only nod at her, exceedingly grateful for her quickness of mind, and the attention of the group was soon returned to Jane and Christopher. Taking a sip of tea, Vince reread the letter from Howard, not knowing which emotion he should feel first. To be so loved was quite overwhelming and to have such love confessed in such a way even more so. There was no entreaty that the letter be burned, and no shame in the words. Howard loved him and Vince immediately wished to go to him and confess his love in kind and to agree to go to Pemberley and never venture forth again.

He could not do this, however. He was prevented by his ankle, which would not allow him to walk so far, and by the unexpected sound of a carriage drawing up in front of the house.


	58. Chapter 58

**Glad that people enjoyed the last chapter. It made me happy.**

**And now enter...**

* * *

The grandeur of the carriage that came to stop in front of the Bennet home sent Mrs Bennet into a flutter of nerves. Breakfast was quickly abandoned as she and Kitty pressed their faces to the window to guess at who had come to call so early in the morning. Mr Bennet quietly left the room with his cup of tea in hand and a slice of toast held between his teeth and Mr Bingley, upon sighting the carriage, turned a little pale and instantly prevailed upon Jane to walk away with him into the garden.

Very soon there was only Vince and Mary left at the table. Vince because his ankle would not permit him to move quickly around the breakfast table to the window and Mary because she thought it rather rude to stare out of the window and to leave her brother alone.

They did not have long to wait to discover the owner of the carriage. The bell was rung and they were very quickly set face to face with the Lady Catherine de Bourgh. They were of course all intending to be surprised; but their astonishment was beyond their expectation.

"Lady Catherine," Vince squeaked, climbing unsteadily to his feet. Upon hearing the name his mother and sisters curtseyed deeply, staring at the woman with awe and surprise.

Lady Catherine entered the room with an air more ungracious even than usual. She made no reply to Vince and instead crossed the room and sat at the head of the table without saying a word. Vince returned to his seat but his mother and sisters did not, and though they now knew who the lady was, his mother did not request an introduction. After sitting a moment in silence, Lady Catherine turned to Vince.

"I hope you are well, Mr Bennet. That lady, I suppose, is your mother."

"Yes, madam."

"And they, I suppose, are your sisters."

"Yes, madam," said Mrs Bennet, delighted to have an opportunity to speak to Lady Catherine.

"This is Mary, my middle daughter, and Kitty, my youngest girl but one. My youngest of all is lately married, and my eldest is somewhere about the garden, walking with a young man who, I believe, will soon become part of the family."

"You have a very small property here," returned Lady Catherine after another short silence.

"It is nothing in comparison to your own estate, my lady, I dare say; but I assure you it is much larger than Sir William Lucas's."

"This must be a most inconvenient dining room in the evening, in summer; the windows are full west."

Mrs Bennet assured her that they were never troubled by the late summer sun, as the stand of Elm trees shaded the house quite adequately.

"May I take the liberty of asking your ladyship whether you left Mr and Mrs Collins well?" she added.

"Yes, very well. I saw them three nights ago."

Vince now expected that she would produce a letter for them from Charlotte, as it seemed the only probably motive for her to be calling. But no letter appeared, and he was completely puzzled by the visit.

Mrs Bennet, with greatly over-emphasised civility, begged her ladyship to take some tea; but Lady Catherine very resolutely, and not very politely, declined; and then rising up, said to Vince:

"Mr Bennet, there seemed to a prettying kind of wilderness on the side of your lawn. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you will favour me with your arm and your company."

Vince blanched. It was not only the thought of being alone with the woman that troubled him, but the pain it would undoubtably cause his ankle to do so. He began to beg her leave to decline but his mother quickly overrode him.

"Yes, he shall be most happy to do so! Kitty, fetch the boots from the back hallway for your brother."

Kitty nodded and scampered off and Mary looked appalled that their mother would be so careless of her son's well being.

"Mother, you cannot-" she began to appeal, only to be over-ruled.

"You cannot suggest denying our guest a turn of the garden, Mary?"

"No, of course not, but I would be more than happy to show the Lady Catherine. Vince's ankle is still tender."

"I am sure the young man is quite capable," Lady Catherine spoke with a voice like a whip's lash. "And I insist on his accompanying me. For a man to admit to such a trifling injury as a tender ankle is quite unacceptable. Don't you agree, Mrs Bennet?"

"Oh, yes, I quite agree," Mrs Bennet nodded obscenely.

Kitty appeared at that moment with a pair of their father's boots in hand and Vince sighed inwardly. They were large boots and would no doubt allow for his ankle. What they would not do, he knew, was provide any support or comfort. His only hope was that Lady Catherine would soon tire of her walk, and their home, and leave shortly.

He pulled the boots on gingerly as his mother walked Lady Catherine to the door nearest the garden, Kitty following behind, and leaving Mary and Vince alone.

"You should not do this, Vince," she whispered urgently. "You will only injure your ankle the more."

"I know," he told her, looking up at her concerned face. "I know it shall likely cause me a little pain, but I know also that this lady is not easily deterred and that the quicker this is done with, the quicker she shall leave."

"But, Vince-"

"And can you imagine how insufferable our mother shall be if I refuse? And considering I intend to do something much worse than refusing a walk with Lady Catherine quite soon, I think I should keep our mother on side while I can, don't you?"

"Something worse?"

"Quite."

Mary furrowed her brow in thought, her eyes drifting to the table where they chanced upon the note from Howard; which her brother now immediately pocketed.

"Vince," she murmured slowly. "What did Mr Darcy write in that letter to you?"

Vince only grinned in return, reminding his sister of a mischievous imp, but the grin faltered when he pulled himself to standing. He let out a groan as Mary assisted him through the house but stood straight and unassisted, if gingerly, when in the sight of Lady Catherine. They walked slowly through the garden until they were out of earshot from the house and Lady Catherine began to speak. It was a trial on Vince to listen to her words as he concentrated on walking naturally whilst saving his ankle from being hurt too unnecessarily but he tried valiantly to follow her conversation.

"You can be at no loss, Mr Bennet, to understand the reason for my journey hither. Your own conscience must tell you why I have come."

"Indeed, you are mistaken, madam. I have not been able to account for the honour of seeing you here."

"Mr Bennet," replied her ladyship angrily, stopping to confront Vince and the opportunity to pause caused him great relief, even if the words spoken to him did not.

"Mr Bennet, you ought to know that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere you choose to be, you shall not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such a moment as this, I shall not depart from it. Reports of a most alarming nature having been reaching my ears, the last of which arrived only two days ago, and I believe that you, Mr Bennet, are the source of this evil."

"What-"

"Is it not true, Mr Bennet, that you did solicit my nephew, Mr Darcy? That you did compel my other nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam to try his suit with my own daughter? That you sought to persuade her to quit my home in favour of a place secret to all whilst you corrupted the young people of my family? I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, for my daughter would do no such thing unless very much compelled against her will, and is surely only visiting friends and her letters to me misplaced by the mail."

"If you believe it impossible to be true," said Vince, his face colouring from both astonishment and disdain, "I wonder that you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by it?"

"At once to insist upon having such reports contradicted, or else to have your debauchery exposed and my daughter returned to me."

Vince looked into the woman's face, ready to reply with a comment as equally insulting as she had given him; but beneath the scorn and anger and pride that made up the lady's features he saw too a glimpse of her genuine fear for her only daughter. He remembered the fear that had gripped his own mother, and indeed all the family, when they feared Lydia to be lost to them, and he could not help but feel compassion for Lady Catherine, rude and bothersome as she was.

"Your ladyship, in coming here and finding me at home with my family, you must surely see that I have not masterminded any plan to ensure the downfall of those you hold dear. If such reports are in circulation about your daughter and the Colonel, surely there are avenues better searched than in my humble neighbourhood."

"If! Do you still pretend to be ignorant of it? And what of your unhealthy attachment to my other nephew. You can hardly be ignorant of those rumours, Have they not been industriously circulated by yourself? Do you not know that such a report is spread abroad?"

"I have never heard that it was."

"And yet I have learned it from the most reliable source. Miss Bingley wrote to me in great fear that my nephew was in danger from you. What say you to that?"

Inwardly, Vince wished to tell her that Miss Bingley was a poisonous witch of a woman whose word should not be trusted even as much as one could trust a half-starved dog, but chose to keep that particular thought to himself.

"I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. You may make statements and ask questions which I shall choose not to answer."

"This is not to be borne, Mr Bennet," she spat, attempting to loom over him. "I shall be satisfied in this, and you shall tell me. Have you led my nephew into wickedness?"

Had he not read that very morning the letter from Howard which announced his love in no uncertain terms, Vince might not have been so eager to stand against Lady Catherine as he did. As it was, he drew himself up to his full height and stared directly into the old woman's eyes.

"I have led no one into wickedness. I have done nothing wicked. That you and Mr Darcy's father made him believe that he was so, is a far more beastly action. My understanding in these matters is that your daughter released Mr Darcy from his betrothal and he happily released her. She was, in quick time, engaged to Colonel Fitzwilliam, a man very worthy of her. I understand them to be very much in love with one another and that they await your blessing before they marry. I am quite sure that you are also aware of the truth of this but would rather listen to the words of a conniving woman who has no place interfering with the lives and happiness of others as she seems to enjoy doing. As for myself and Howard... what is between us belongs to us, and you are the last person I would confess it to."

Vince closed his mouth and took a deep breath in through his nose. His ankle felt as though it had caught fire and his entire leg ached but he felt better for having spoken so to Lady Catherine. The lady, however, was not impressed.

"Mr Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am Mr Darcy's nearest relation in the world and I have a right to know all his concerns."

"But you are not entitled to know mine. And I should think that Colonel Fitzwilliam and your daughter, Miss Catherine, are quite as related to Howard as you are, and they share none of your misgivings. What is more, his bother, Mr Michael Darcy is, I should think, Howard's closest relation, and his greatest wish is that Howard and I remain closely acquainted with one another and that his brother be allowed to be happy."

He was not prepared for the slap that followed sharply on the tails of his words and, though it was not as forceful as Lady Catherine might have hoped, it did cause him to stumble backwards onto his injured leg. His gasp of pain brought a look of malicious satisfaction to the lady's face and Vince barely remained standing as pain coursed through his leg and to his entire body.

"Let me be rightly understood, Mr Bennet," Lady Catherine spoke in a low voice, full of anger. "This sinful union with my nephew to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Or I shall expose you for what you are. You shall be ruined, as will be your sisters and your parents, such as they are. Mr Darcy is engaged to my daughter."

"'If you expose me as is your wish, the scandal will not stop with my family. Your nephew will be embroiled in it, and your daughter by extension. Even you will not escape the rumours, Lady Catherine."

At this Lady Catherine was silent. She seemed to be working through her mind the true outcomes of her threat to Vince and coming to the same suggested conclusion. Exposing Vince's relationship with Howard would eventually see her own name connected to scandal and sullied by gossip. She turned, resolved to leave at once but hesitated a moment, looking down her nose at Vince as he struggled to maintain his footing and his breathing.

"I take my leave of you, Mr Bennet, but I am far from satisfied. You are a quite repellant creature and like as not you shall burn in hellfire for your sinfulness. My nephew, it seems is destined for the same fate and I shall not acknowledge him as a relative of mine in future. Perhaps the worst insult however, is that he gave up my daughter for such an unattractive commoner. The pain of this may have been easier to bare if he had taken for himself a man with more fashionable hair and attire and without a face that makes one look away in distaste. In short, Mr Bennet, I shall never know why Mr Darcy chose a boy as thoroughly ugly as yourself. Good day."

With that she turned on her heel and walked swiftly back to the house. She entered and passed straight through without thanking Mrs Bennet for her hospitality, or even acknowledging her, and departed in her carriage without so much as a backward glance. Mrs Bennet stared after her with her jaw slack and her eyes wide at the blatant display of rudeness but Mary lost no time in hurrying out to the garden, Kitty following closely behind.

They found Vince sitting awkwardly on the path, his injured leg having finally refused to hold his weight. His sisters helped him to stand and assisted him as he struggled back to the house. He was greatly shaken from the encounter with Lady Catherine and his brow was clammy with sweat from being forced to walk on his swollen ankle and he made it as far as the sitting room and no further.

"Are you crying, Vince?" Kitty enquired as he sat ungracefully upon the sofa.

"My ankle hurts quite badly," he managed in response and Mary immediately sent her younger sister off to have a compress prepared for the newly inflamed injury.

"You are crying," Mary observed when they were alone. "What did she say to you?"

Vince shook his head, unable in such a state to tell her what had happened.

"She called me ugly," was all he managed, and Mary, hiding her smile, hugged him tightly and made him as comfortable as she could on the sofa.


	59. Chapter 59

**A plan is hatched. Is it a cunning plan? No, not really. This isn't BlackAdder. **

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When Jane and Bingley returned a half hour later, and Vince had found time to compose himself, he made the decision to tell them both, and Mary, what had been said between himself and Lady Catherine.

"And are you sure that Mr Darcy means to be with you?" Jane asked after a short silence.

"Of course he does!" Christopher enthused, to the surprise of all. "He has been thinking long on this and I left him this morning at his writing desk, penning several letters to his brother and our closest friends in order to put his plan into action."

"His plan?" Vince asked, attempting unsuccessfully to move into a more upright position. His ankle had turned a very unattractive shade of purple and had been so swollen that even his father's wide boot had not come free easily. The offending ankle was now elevated on a pillow on the sofa with a compress over it. Kitty had been sent to fetch Dr Ashcroft to ensure that there was no damage to the bone but Vince was not overly concerned. He could only view the injury with annoyance now, for it prevented him from going to Howard and relating to him in person the morning's events.

"What plan might this be?" Mary asked with equal curiosity.

"It is a plan which, I am told, might include yourself, if you wish, Miss Bennet."

"It is?" Mary questioned, trying to read the answer in Christopher's smiling face. "How ever so?"

"Well, having taken into account the many rare flora that grow on his estate, our friend Mr Darcy last night hatched a plan to host those botanists and persons most interested in such things at Pemberley, that they might record, study and draw the unique specimens for posterity. Furthermore, he intends to make the estate a place of artistic and scientific endeavour more generally."

"Oh," was Mary's reply. It took a moment for the full import of his words to reach her and when they did her smile grew wide. "I see."

"What do you see?" asked Vince, still confused by the plan.

"Well," Mary responded, her eyes twinkling. "I am very keen on botany and hope that Mr Darcy might extend his invitation to study the flora of his estate to me."

"But what of me?" cried Vince, aware that his voice had risen in pitch but unable to control it.

"You, Vince," supplied Christopher, "are a most accomplished sketcher and painter. Your skill will be most certainly needed if our scientific venture is to be a success."

"Our venture?" Jane asked in turn.

"Quite. It was my hope that we could join them also. After the wedding, of course."

It was Jane's turn to smile and as Vince looked around their joyful little group his only wish was that Howard could be there to join them in their happiness. He said as much and was immediately forced to hide his face when he met with three knowing smiles.

"He said he would meet me here when his correspondence was complete. He should be here already, in fact. Unless..."

Christopher's voice trailed away as his eyes widened in dismay.

"Unless he met Lady Catherine on the road."

Howard walked as quickly as the uneven road would allow, focusing his thoughts only on Vince. He did not want to think of his aunt's cruel words, her slanders, her threats. He wished only to see the young man who he knew finally that he could never do without.

His encounter with Lady Catherine on the road between Bingley's house and the Bennets' had rattled him, especially as she had mentioned having already seen and spoken to Vince that morning. The timing could not have been worse, he mused. He had drawn up plans and sent off missives to ensure that he and Vince might be able to live together without too much gossip and also ensured that his home might not be such a lonely and solitary place for him or his brother. If Vince had been shamed into changing his mind by Lady Catherine, Howard was not sure what he would do.

The pretty house surrounded by elm trees finally came into view and Howard quickened his pace still more. He had cut ties with the woman who had ruled his mind and morals for more than half of his life and what he desired most at that moment was to embrace the one he loved. And to begin to plan their lives together.

He was admitted quickly to the house, when he reached it, and was led, panting for breath as he was, into the sitting room. He had asked Bingley to introduce the idea of their all going to Pemberley together and, by the smiling expressions which greeted him, his friend had done so to a welcome reception. The happiness with which he was greeted was quickly overshadowed, however, when he took in the sight of Vince. He was in very nearly the same position as Howard had left him, though attired differently, and Howard could not help but admire his slim figure as he lay on the sofa. His skin was a shade too pale, his hair was a little out of place and his ankle seemed dreadfully bruised, but to Howard he was, as always, the most beautiful creature imaginable.

"Vince."

"Hello, Howard."

Jane stood quickly and took Mary and Christopher with her from the room, under the pretense of begging their mother to let the two gentlemen stay for tea, but Howard barely heard them leave. He had been captured wholly by two bright and shining blue eyes.

"I read your letter this morning," Vince said softly and Howard nodded, sensing the blush which had begun at his neck begin to rise.

"I read your poem with great amusement, as well."

"I thought you might," Howard answered with equal softness. "But even you must admit that my use of meter was a fine thing."

Vince gave a low laugh and Howard felt himself drawn forward by it, until his stood close by the sofa and Vince's prone form.

"It was a very fine thing," Vince acknowledged. "A very fine poem and very fine sentiments."

"And has Bingley related to you my plans for Pemberley?"

"He has." It was Vince's turn to nod and blush. "I think they sound like very fine plans, Howard. I hope we might put them into action without delay and return together to our home."

The words sent a thrill through Howard's nerves until he thought his knees might buckle. 'Our home.' He had never thought that he would delight in sharing his home, his space, with anyone; but he could not imagine returning there without Vince by his side. He smiled and was rewarded with a smile of equal excitement and passion.

"My aunt did not distress you too greatly, I hope?"

Vince shrugged a shoulder elegantly and the beauty of the gesture brought Howard to his knees beside the younger man.

"She insulted my hair and my person and made me walk upon my injured ankle and told me that I was destined for hellfire."  
"Oh. Not so different from her usual conversation then?" Vince gave another small chuckle but as Howard looked at his face he saw unease there and it hurt his that his love should feel so.

"If I had known that she had insulted your hair I would have been more scathing to her in my own abuse. She does not understand beauty. You have seen the portrait of her own husband? His eyebrows were so large they were almost grown into his hair and she thought that to be the height of fashion. Think no more of her. You are..." he took a moment to breathe deeply. "You are beautiful, Vince."

It was an effort to raise his eyes after such a statement, for as much as he trusted Vince, he feared that he would see scorn in the man's eyes after such a statement. When he did bring his eyes up to meet Vince's his breath was momentarily stolen from his body. There was no scorn, no pity, no shame, no hurt. There was only adoration, affection and love.

And in response, Howard Darcy did the only thing he could. He kissed Vince Bennet with all the love and tenderness and passion that he could muster.


	60. Chapter 60

**Things are being resolved. The end is nigh... how sad.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or this story. I only use them for swooning purposes.**

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Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy were invited to stay for dinner with little begging. Mrs Bennet secretly hoped that Mary might be inclined to marry Mr Darcy as the two seemed to talk together easily during the meal and afterward they and Vince amused themselves with talk of exotic flowers. When Mr Darcy excused himself to speak with Mr Bennet in his study after coffee had been poured and drunk she felt even more certain that she was soon to have another daughter married and so excused herself, rather unsubtly from her children, and crept through the house to listen at the study door.

"... This seems a rather fine enterprise, Mr Darcy. I only regret that I shall not be able to venture forth with my children to join you."

"You would consent then, to Mary and Vince joining me at Pemberley for the foreseeable future?"

"Yes, of course," there came a low chuckle just loud enough to hear. "Where Vince goes, Mary should go too. He is to be responsible for her when I am gone, after all."

"That is very good news."

"It is, isn't it? Of course, my wife shall not be pleased. She shall say that with the two of them squirreled away so on your estate that they shall never find suitable partners."

A throat was cleared.

"It was my understanding that Vince had decided to remain unwed, much like his sister."

"And I have your word that you have no intentions toward my daughter? That she shall be safe in your company?"

"I have no intentions of that kind toward your daughter, sir, I promise you."

"I thought not."

There was a pause in the conversation and Mrs Bennet shuffled in her crouched position by the keyhole, unaware that her husband was obvious to her presence.

"And toward my son?"

"I... You have a most talented, engaging and charming son, Mr Bennet. It is my greatest pleasure in life to say that he is my dearest friend. I would do anything for him."

"Good. I am satisfied then."

"You- you are?"

"Of course. I know you are an honourable man. I have seen the friendship grow and build a firm foundation between yourself and Vince. All I shall require are the promises that he shall not be hurt in any way (the heart is a delicate thing you know, and can be too easily hurt by a careless lover); a visit home every so often; and regular correspondence. Do you think that is within your command to do, Mr Darcy?"

"...Yes... Thank you."

"You are most welcome, son. And might I say, unofficially of course, welcome to the family."

Mrs Bennet could not remain as she was any longer and all but fell into the room in her haste to have the whole truth known to her. Surely she had not heard what she thought she had?

"Ah, Mrs Bennet, so good of you to join us."

"Mr Bennet-"

"Mr Darcy has invited our children, Mary and Vince, to stay with him at Pemberley. They are to study the unique flowers that grow on his estate and set up his fine house as a centre for both science and artistic endeavour." He turned, grinning to Howard. "We are thrilled, of course, that you should think of our two children when assembling your party, Mr Darcy."

"The honour is mine, I assure you, Mr Bennet," came Howard's rushed reply, his eyes averted under the fiery gaze of Mrs Bennet.

"Does he mean to marry Mary?"

"I should think not, my dear," Mr Bennet replied easily. "She has no wish to marry any man. She wishes to study and exercise her mind. And Vince wishes for... well," and here his cheeks coloured ever so slightly. "I expect Vince wishes for many things, but the chiefest of his desires will come true when we give him leave to journey north with his dearest friend, Mr Darcy."

Mrs Bennet was quite without words, an event rarely seen before, and she could do little else but gape at each of the men in turn for several long minutes. When she had finally exhausted this action she turned on her heel with a sob and ran to the stairs and then her bed. This noise brought the Bennet children and Bingley to the study door where they were greeted by their father's smiling face and encouraging words.

"I suppose we must organise Jane's wedding for sooner rather than later, Mr Bingley; so that three of my children can leave me all at once."

"Truly?" Vince asked venturing into the room and tentatively slipping his hand into Howard's.

"Truly, Vince," his father replied, an edge of melancholy drifting into his tired voice. "You are to go to Pemberley, and Mary too, and you are to be happy, son. Mr Darcy I believe, is the man who can make you happy, is he not?"

"Yes."

"Good. For I have given my consent. He is the kind of man to whom I should not like to refuse anything, and when he asks for that which will make you happy, I could not dare to refuse. But you must write to me, Vince. It shall be a lonely place indeed with you all gone."

They stood together in the happy glow of understanding for several minutes before Kitty furrowed her brow and finally spoke.

"But I shall still be here, won't I father?"

"Yes Kitty. I intend to keep you at home with me until you have learned to be thoroughly sensible."

The sound of Kitty's wail and the good natured laughter of her siblings filled the house and Mrs Bennet, upstairs in her bed, covered her head dolefully with a pillow.


	61. Chapter 61

**I stressed over this chapter. I think it's the penultimate one and I am really bad at endings. Hope it's ok.**

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Beneath the elms Vince sat, not caring for the early morning dew that wet his trousers, or the cold morning air that was surely turning his nose red. He was waiting. Today was Jane's day, her wedding day, and the last day before they were to leave for Pemberley. Jane and Christopher were to go the long way, honeymooning and stopping wherever their minds took fancy, while he, Mary and Howard would be traveling through London. Mary would leave them there to stay with their aunt and uncle, leaving Howard and Vince to finish the journey alone. She would make her way there in a handful of weeks, she assured them; but she had no wish to act as the third wheel so early in their freedom.

'You are newly weds too, Vince,' she had whispered. 'Travel together, enjoy one another. Michael Darcy is currently in London and we shall meet and travel to Pemberley together, eventually. I hope that when we finally come together as one family in Yorkshire I shall find you glowing and radiant as any bride.'

Vince had embraced her so fiercely that she had squealed in a most unMary-like fashion, which had, in turn, brought them to giggling.

And so now Vince sat, in the quiet of the dawn, waiting for Howard as they had planned.

Eventually he saw the other man come into view, walking through the early morning mists, awkwardly angelic, and Vince shivered at the thought that this man was all his own. He stood when Howard drew closer, still slightly unstable on his right leg even two weeks after the 'shooting times', as they called it, and the fierce love in Howard's eyes nearly sent him to his knees. He was upon Vince in a moment, their lips meeting with a sweetness that made him moan aloud while a candle seemed to flicker alight within his belly.

"Howard..."

"Vince..."

"I have missed you."

Howard drew back from their messy kisses to take in his young lover's face, a smile gracing his mouth at the sight of those lips, red from kisses and the cold, and eyes so bright they seemed to shine through to his heart.

"You saw me only yesterday," he chuckled.

"But I did not kiss you yesterday," came the impish reply and their lips met again tenderly.

Howard was careful not to press too forcefully, not wanting to leave Vince with a graze from his moustache on such an important day. They would have to learn to work around that, he thought, but they would have time for such matters soon enough. He smiled contentedly against Vince's lips. Soon they would have time to learn each other's bodies and ways and habits. Soon they would have all the time in the world to truly be what they were, two halves of one whole; the two parts of one person. Howard could barely wait.

Vince moved to draw breath and laughed softly as Howard began to leave gentle kisses along his pale neck.

"There shall be little time for us to talk today, I fear," Vince whispered, distracted by Howard's lips. "I shall be thoroughly distracted by attending to Jane, and you by Bingley, and then tomorrow we shall both be distracted by our departure and the excitement of all that is to come and seeing family in London."

"And what of it, my love?"

Vince felt his entire body convulse joyfully at the use of such a title.

"I did not wish to go so long without telling you, openly, that I love you. I love you, Howard."

His mouth was immediately captured by Howard's. His face held with the utmost care by those strong, safe hands, until he felt sure that the emotion of the moment would send him into a swoon.

"I have something to give you," Howard whispered raggedly, wishing there were some way to speak to Vince that did not force him to pause their kissing.

"You do?"

"Yes. To make very sure that you know you are mine and I am yours."

He withdrew from his pocket two rings and went slowly down onto one knee.

"Vince Bennet, I give you this ring to show you that we belong to each other, for all time, as truly as man and wife."

He placed one ring on the third finger of Vince's left hand and the other ring on his own finger, shaking as he did so, with nerves as well as joy.

"Oh, Mr Darcy!" Vince gasped, pressing his soft hands to Howard's cheeks and delighting in the roughness of his yet unshaven face. He pulled the taller man up toward him, this lips meeting and their tongues, tentative yet sure, dancing together in the celebration of their private union.

They eventually parted and stood, panting for breath, with not an inch between their bodies.

"What was that, 'Mr Darcy' business about?" Howard asked. "You shall call me Howard from now on, surely?"

"Oh, of course I will," Vince nodded, biting his lip and gazing up at Howard through his eyelashes. "But I have always had a desire to call out, 'Mr Darcy!' in such a fashion. It just seemed the thing to do. Did you enjoy it?"

Howard could not help but grin back at the coy, mischievous smile that Vince presented to him.

"I think I liked it quite well," he purred, leaning back towards Vince's welcoming mouth. "You have permission to call me Mr Darcy as much as you wish, Vince. When we are engaged in... intimate acts."

They kissed again as the sun rose over the meadows, feeling its warmth upon their faces and the sense of new possibilities it brought forth with it.


	62. Chapter 62

**And here it is. The last part. The Austen-esque epilogue to sum up the story and give a little closure to the characters. **

**Thank you to those who have read, it's been lovely to tell you a story. And a big thanks to the Boosh and Jane Austen who own all of this, except for my silly insertions of course.**

**Bit sad really, but there you go. I present to you: Boosh and Prejudice, The Epilogue.**

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Jane looked, as was to be expected, beautifully radiant as she entered the church and walked forward to meet her husband. Bingley was quite overcome and had to be held up by Howard when his knees started to buckle. Mrs Bennet cried openly, Kitty sighed longingly, and Vince and Mary grinned happily. Their father quietly wiped the tears from his own eyes and sent a prayer to heaven that his children would be safe and live long and happy lives. He had not found love in his own marriage but had been forced to it by propriety's sake, feeling there to be no other option. He could not pretend that he did not feel the vaguest pang of jealousy when he thought of the joy and love his son could look forward to but was resolved to simply be happy for his children. It was all he had ever wanted for them.

They all departed the next day, save Kitty, and he found himself seated in his usual place in his study, listening to the sounds of an almost silent house. He wrote a little and read a little, and, an hour before lunch, was met with the sight of Kitty creeping into his room and taking up a book to read in the corner.

"If you will not let me go until I am sensible," she told him when questioned. "I think I had better get on with it, don't you?"

Mr Bennet had laughed heartily at that and had brought her over to admire the butterflies he had collected and been writing about. She marveled at their colour and delicacy and, very soon, the two were as close as father and daughter might be. Kitty had not received much of her father's attention in the past, and he had understood her very little and it was a comfort to both to discover that they could get along very well together and so Kitty became, under her father's tutelage, a very sensible woman indeed.

Jane and Christopher took their time journeying North. They were young and had a great deal of money at their disposal and had determined to enjoy themselves thoroughly after too long spent being miserable and separated from each other.

As the years floated by they came to settle at a stately home within walking distance of Pemberley, though they rarely walked there. A carriage was needed to take them, and their five children, to and from Pemberley several times each week, but Vince walked to their home on the days they could not come to him and was a favourite uncle to his four nephews and one niece.

The addition to their household of Colonel Fitzwilliam and his wife, Catherine, only added to the joy at Pemberley. They were married soon after their arrival and stayed there until the rather timely death of Lady Catherine, whereupon they inherited her estate. Catherine Fitzwilliam flourished under her husband's loving care. She proved herself a keen scientist and helped to establish Pemberley as a place of learning and scientific endeavour. They spent half of every year in Yorkshire and were some of the most cherished guests to the estate.

Mary settled in quickly at her new home and spent the first month of her stay exploring the extensive library. When Mr and Miss Tyler came to stay again she took to exploring the grounds with them and eventually, to Vince's great delight, she began to explore Miss Tyler as well. The summer came when Miss Tyler decided she too would stay at Pemberley permanently, with Mary, and much celebration was shared.

The revelry was renewed the following summer when Michael Darcy returned from London with an important introduction to make.

"This is David," he'd said quietly, standing before Vince and Howard in the front hall, his hand firmly grasping that of a young man was sandy blonde hair and lively blue eyes.

"Dave," the man had corrected softly, squeezing Michael's hand and gazing at him with such affection that Vince had squealed with delight before pulling them both into a fierce hug.

Howard had been less ready to give his blessing but soon found himself very pleased to welcome his brother's lover into their unusual family group. The four of them now seemed a complete set and he could not imagine for himself a more happy existence.

Miss Bingley was never seen at Pemberley again, and was not missed. She eventually married a man of considerable fortune and considerable age and if she was less than satisfied with her lot she never made it known to her brother or anyone else.

As for Vince and Howard, well, they were remarkable together. Without the fear of discovery or ridicule their relationship grew to be a beautifully intricate thing. Even when they could not agree, being quite different men is so many ways, the core of their friendship remained unshaken. They were Mr Darcy and Mr Bennet, the two eccentric men of Pemberley House, to the wider world. They were Howard and Vince to those who knew them best.

And to each other... they were life itself.

And together, through music and laughter, love and friendship, silly sentimentality and epic passion, they left the world a less prejudiced place than they had found it.

Upon which note, my dear readers, we shall leave them.


End file.
